Extradition Escape
by Tangerine-Alert
Summary: Harry sees only one option when his name comes out of the cup - to escape where the contract can't follow; across borders where the Ministry's laws can't follow him. Where he goes changes him, and those who remained change too. Desperate measures implemented change how paths are walked for not just Harry but others too.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is another spin on the core ideas in my story _Extradition Challenges_. But this time properly fleshed out into a full-length story. The start is the similar, but the rest isn't.

**Chapter 01**

Only one champion for each school, that's what Dumbledore had said.

He didn't understand.

He didn't know.

Didn't know how.

How his name had found its way in there, into the cup.

From what Hermione had said, and she at least had believed him, it could only choose one name from one school.

Cedric from Hogwarts, Fleur from Beauxbatons and Krum from Durmstrang.

Which left him. What school had he been chosen from? And who had put his name into the cup?

More importantly, what was he going to do now? He'd decided to start wandering the castle's corridors, anything to keep him away from the tower, the only place he'd felt safe, now it was just a space to sleep, and he wasn't sure he was safe even doing that.

The dangers were real, and had been real over the past few years, and now he felt the eyes and wands of everyone in the school, and especially everyone in his house on him.

—/ — \\\—

He'd arrived early for the wand weighing, and fortunately, or not, Cedric Diggory was also there, the older boy eyeing him curiously.

He hadn't thought about it before, even last night, when he'd been wandering the halls of the castle, wondering what to do, he hadn't considered what to do.

But now, faced with the pre-beginning of the Tournament he knew he had to ask to help, and why not, from the person who was, or soon would be his competitor?

"I didn't put my name in the cup," Harry blurted out in a hushed tone.

Cedric gestured at a gap between two cabinets that would shield them from anyone entering the room. "I know."

Harry exhaled in relief as Diggory cast a spell around them. He had been moved to almost destruction between last night and now, he'd felt all the eyes of the school on him, that he, Harry Potter had some how magicked the cup. That somehow he _wanted_ this, any of this.

"The school thinks that Hufflepuffs don't notice anything, that we're the house you go to when you're not any of the others," he paused looking down to Harry. "But we're the ones that see Potter."

Harry smiled nervously. "I want to get away."

"Away?" Diggory seemed startled by Harry's sudden demand. Then realisation dawned on his face. "It's a magically binding contract Potter."

Harry shook his head, trying to remember what he and Hermione had talked about late, late last night when he'd finally returned to the tower, she was the only one in there. Still doing homework, so she claimed. They'd just started talking about it, about everything, and got onto the 'nitty gritty' as Hermione called it, about the law and regular 'muggle' contracts, how you could break them it just resulted in jail or stuff like that.

He had money to fight this, if it was like a muggle contract, his uncle had commented about people in 'his business' paying people off to get things done out of contracts. But Harry wasn't sure if he could, fight this sort of contract with money. He also wasn't sure why he was telling Diggory this. But if there was someone he could talk to it was his opponent, from his school. If anything his going would mean Diggory would have a better chance at the Tournament.

"Then I'll run," Harry said. But then admitted. "I don't know where." He looked around. The room was still empty, they had both seemingly arrived quite early.

Cedric's eyes went wide, seemingly more aware than he was of something.

"Look what's happened the last three years. Do you think I wanted this?" Harry said almost pleading.

"Why tell me?" Cedric asked reasonably.

Harry laughed a sarcastic short laugh, one he'd learnt from the teachers ignoring his pleas about what Dudley and his 'gang' used to do. "Ron and most of the school want my guts for garters," Harry paused and gave him a look. "Plus if I'm gone you're a step closer to winning it."

"A Slytherin attitude," Cedric surmised but looked softly at Harry. "If you're determined about this I might be able to help you," he said and looked around them, despite the fact they were alone and could see the door. "But if you do this I…" Cedric trailed off caught in thought, "don't think...I think the consequences are grave," he finally said.

"From what I hear this Tournament could land me in an early one," Harry joked nervously.

—/ — \\\—

It was the weekend before the tournament would begin properly.

Classes, in fact, life had become to be almost worse than living with the Dursleys. At least with them he'd known who would target him and usually when.

Now, here the cutting comments, the snide remarks…the general insults came from people he'd never even spoken to. The physical bumps, pushing past him in the corridors, they hurt sometimes.

But the worst, the worst were the words from those he'd trusted the most.

He'd taken to sitting alone at the front of the classroom. Hermione had sat with him, then he'd found out she was getting stick from Ron about it, about him. He'd told her she didn't have to, he didn't want to make her life worse, because of him.

She had informed Ron he couldn't tell her who her friends were.

Cedric had passed him a piece of parchment when they'd passed one another in the hallways.

He'd kept it with him until he could go to the toilets. He'd have liked to go to Myrtle's bathroom to ensure no one watched him, but he wanted, no _needed_ to read the note, so went to the nearest one.

The note was simple enough, tomorrow, at the station in Hogsmeade there would be a work friend of Cedric's father, checking for an infestation of doxies. He'd be there to transport him away from Hogsmeade, from there to elsewhere. The note warned that there'd be no going back once he left the confines of the castle and Hogsmeade. Then it turned to ash; falling through his fingers onto the cold floor of the bathroom.

The next day, Hermione was the only one in the tower when he'd taken his invisibility cloak. She hadn't said anything, but had given him look of warning and worry as he'd left. He didn't say anything, didn't want to say anything to her, just in case.

It had scared him slightly, Moody seeing through his cloak and telling him to see him later in the forest. A meeting he knew he wouldn't keep.

Once he was out of view of everyone and the castle he pulled the cloak off, slipping it into the bag he'd brought with him. Along with his wand and the money bag he had in his trunk it was the only things he'd taken. His beloved broom he'd left behind along with the full contents of his trunk.

The wizarding world had been unbending in its decision to force him into the Tournament. Between then and now he'd been to see Dumbledore who informed him what he already knew, that the contract was binding. Dumbledore had assured him he was doing everything to try and find out who placed his name in there. But with no parchment and the cup inactive until the next tournament there was nothing much he could do.

Harry would have to do his best, as 'I know you will Harry' Dumbledore had smiled at him warmly without offering any further options.

Harry remembered the noise the door to his office had made, signalling the end of the conversation, even though the headmaster hadn't really answered any of his questions or addressed any of his worries he had.

=/

"You Potter?" Harry almost jumped, but didn't. Over the past few weeks he had become hardened against the stares, looks, asides, comments and insults from his fellow schoolmates and Malfoy.

"Yes," he simply answered.

"Alright, take me hand, you ever done side along before?" The man asked. Harry noted the man's hands were calloused, much like his were. Harry's were that way from years of tending the gardens of the Dursleys, the man's probably from picking various creatures that had nested in people's chimneys.

What happened next was totally unlike anything, but sort of like using a portkey. But not.

And then, swaying slightly he was standing on a small pier and opposite him was a man he'd met briefly before.

"Boss," the man said tipping his non-existent cap before disappearing with a pop.

The man who was left before him stood awkwardly for a moment and then thrust out his hand. "Amos Diggory."

"Harry Potter," Harry said shaking the man's hand.

"Yes," he chuckled to himself. "just by shaking your hand we've committed more offences than I could comfortably count."

"Thank you for-" Harry was cut off by Amos.

"You reached out to my son. I know his judgement and trust it Mr Potter, and I know that if Cedric were in your impossible situation I would do anything to help him. And," he paused for a moment. "You're Harry Potter, you've gone through enough young man."

"Contracts be damned?" Harry asked lightly.

The man took his glasses off, polishing them. "Not lightly Mr Potter, though I'm not an expert regarding the cup. Contracts my department deals with _can_ be paid off" he said in an annoyed tone. "Can be broken with a fine, can be enacted, or they can be manoeuvred around or ignored all together." He looked out to what Harry assumed was the sea. "Ah, I can see they're coming now."

Harry looked around and put his hand above his glasses to shade them. He could see a medium-sized sailing ship sailing towards the pier.

"Magical contracts, Mr Potter are not gotten around easily," Amos Diggory continued in slightly darker tone. "It is not something anyone just runs away from. But outside the Ministry's reach and away from any trade and political agreements they have little power. They might think they've got the power, but it is limited, if only they'd ask the people who have to enforce their laws," he said slightly to himself.

"Thank you Mr Diggory for..." Harry dug around in his pockets for his money bag.

"No, Harry," Diggory pushed the money away. "Keep it. My associates will help, but you'll still need everything. I'm sorry I couldn't risk taking you to Diagon Alley," he paused. "You may have to begin anew Mr Potter, it is not a simple thing, and you'll need everything," he reiterated, seemingly waiting, perhaps hoping Harry would call this a bad idea and back out.

Instead Harry shook his head smiling softly. He had had nothing with the Dursleys. Each year at Hogwarts they had threatened to leave him with nothing, not even his life of magic nor his freedom. So returning to nothing would be something he could manage.

He didn't say any of this to Mr Diggory only stating "It is something I'm familiar with." The older man just looked at him, reading something beyond this and nodded.

They stood making idle, if that was the word, talk while the ship approached. Mr Diggory explained about the trace on his wand, and how it would nullify when he passed into international waters, it had something to do with the path that was taken, an ancient path that crossed several ley lines but meant for a swifter passage of travel for the ship.

They stood in silence as the ship docked and cargo and goods was magically unloaded; floating off the ship.

Then it seemed it was time to go.

"Tell Cedric, good luck, do Hogwarts proud," Harry said as he embraced Amos Diggory in a hug.

"Well...yes...of course..." The man blustered, somewhat startled by his hug.

-/

As the ship sailed away Amos wondered if he had done the right thing. He had just assisted the saviour of the wizarding world to leave the protections of not just wizarding England but wizarding Europe. Not just that, but also assisted the underage wizard to run from a magically binding contract. One that he had deliberately not researched, he did not want to know the particulars of it.

The ones he had to deal with in the department were difficult and worrying enough.

But his son had been persuasive in his letters and his son was a Hufflepuff through and through and knew the character of a person, and one thing that Cedric had said was that Harry Potter was scared of what might befall him in the Tournament. Much more so than the Ministry of Magic and what they might do to him.

-/

After the view of Britain had disappeared behind the ship a man introduced himself as being a friend of Amos'.

He explained that Harry had just committed several crimes, but was fortunately outside the reach of the Ministry, and where they were going the Ministry's reach was extremely limited to the point of non-existence.

"But, you've chosen a hard way to escape Harry," the man, wizard; Hubert explained.

Amos had called in a few favours to get him onto this ship, officially it wasn't carrying any passengers. Hubert was on here as part of the Ministry's programme of monitoring the transport XXX through to X classified magical creatures, some of them bred in Britain and transported south for sale in the Middle East and Africa.

"Did Amos say why?" Harry asked.

Hubert nodded. "I understand, don't get me wrong, but you probably don't know some things, couldn't know I'd guess."

So Hubert explained to him, as they descended below the deck into his cabin, where he fixed both of them a sandwich 'while we've got fresh salad'.

When, and not if, the Ministry discovered he'd done a dash, they'd force the goblins to freeze his accounts.

Harry had expected that, for all Hermione's exasperation about his and Ron's attention spans in History of Magic he had actually found himself flipping ahead through his textbooks when they'd been studying. The goblins were afforded great amount of freedom to trade, but like everything and his current predicament; under the Ministry's gaze.

"You'll have what you've got with you, and not much more," Hubert explained between bites of a large roll.

Harry nodded. "I expected that."

Hubert looked to him. "Other wizards would be worried."

Harry didn't want to explain everything about the Dursleys but said simply "I lived with muggle relatives, they didn't much like me, so going without…"

Hubert nodded. "Right you are, say no more."

They continued on in silence as they each finished eating.

Hubert broke the silence. "You were smart, bringing only a bag, clothes on your back, still, you will struggle Harry, especially as you can't apparate or I assume, speak another language?"

Harry admitted he didn't even understand what the process of apparition even was.

To this admission Hubert let out a slow whistle and a nervous laugh.

-/

Then, after barely a week at sea, they were approaching Alexandria, and Harry stood out on the deck of the ship watching the city come into view.

Hubert had explained when the ship docked Harry should leave as fast as he could. Magical customs, import and export went at a different pace here, and no one would notice a child going off the ship.

He was armed with a few phrases and map of some of the wizarding shops where he might find work.

And that was it.

Hubert tried to soften the blow, but had said that running away from anything wasn't easy 'otherwise everyone would do it'.

Most witches and wizards took a 'break' in countries like Australia, Canada or the USA. Far enough from Britain to be unusual, but with the comforts of home.

Harry recalled Ron and his family visiting Egypt, but stayed around Cairo and the pyramids. The capitol being a draw for tourists both muggle and wizards.

Venturing outside of the capital or even into the less frequented places without someone in the know, or a guide was not something many wizards attempted. Preferring the comforts of the familiar and the protections they afforded.

Harry looked up at the sky and then back to the ship that had brought him here, it was the last connection to expectations he'd escaped.

Even now as he walked away into the crowds with the bustling smells and sands of this new country he suspected he'd made a bad decision, but, it was a less worse one than what might have happened, had he remained, especially as everyone (bar one or two people) had turned their backs on him.

-/

Hermione Granger bit her bottom lip, she had just lied to a teacher.

No one had noticed for a few days that Harry had been missing. If Ron and the other boys in their house had noticed, they hadn't said anything over the weekend.

It was only once Harry had missed three days' worth of classes that an investigation began.

From what she'd heard from Fred and George, who were some of the very few people in their house who'd tried to argue that Harry hadn't put his name in the cup; the headmaster and the professors were working to establish _when_ Harry disappeared.

It was shortly after Fred and George had had their conversation with her that Professor McGonagall had requested she come to her office.

"I'm sure you're aware Ms Granger of the seriousness of this," the Professor began.

Hermione nodded.

"Are you aware of where Mr Potter is?" The professor watched her through her glasses, a serious expression on her face.

Hermione shook her head.

"You're sure Ms Granger, according to the portraits Mr Potter entered the Gryffindor tower on the weekend while it was practically empty. You were inside when he entered."

Hermione looked at the front of the Professor's desk. "I must have been concentrating on my work Professor," she paused, now to look a the Professor "Harry could have left wearing his invisibility cloak."

Professor McGonagall made a noise. "Yes, his possession of that item has been raised."

The door behind her began to open.

"Thank you Ms Granger," the Professor dismissed her.

-/

Harry had, through accident or luck managed to interpret the map he had been given and found himself to a wizarding area of the sprawling city.

It had been a bit of both, the former included nearly being run over several times as he crossed the road, the angry drivers of the dirty cars seemingly impatient to move less than a couple of cars' lengths through the traffic.

He had constantly thought that this had been, not just a bad idea, but the _wrong_ idea.

But then, he just thought back to Dumbledore's casual statement that it was a contract, and that he'd do his best. With no acknowledgement of the dangers he'd faced in the past few years, no questioning this contract, or mentioning the dangers, he himself had outlined when the Tournament had started.

And then there were his so-called friends and housemates, only Hermione had remained loyal, believing him in his raw honesty. The twins, he'd heard on the periphery, defending him, but always were drowned out when he'd actually been nearby them, mostly by the others within Gryffindor.

Harry rubbed his eyes, in part in his frustration and in part because of the dust and dirt here.

He sat himself against a sick looking palm tree so he could look around the mostly octagonally shaped area he was in. There were small shops and sellers around, but it didn't appear to be solely a wizarding area. There was nothing defined, not like Diagon Alley, but he recognised witches and wizards as they passed through, not through their dress, but by their wands. Some held in their hands; visible, some more concealed.

Putting a hand into his bag he pulled out a fig from a bag of fruits he had bought when he'd passed through a market in his wanderings.

On the ship he had traded his wizarding money with the crew at Hubert's suggestion. He didn't know if he was getting a good exchange for the wizarding cash, but he now had a variety of denominations ranging from Egyptian and Lebanese pounds, American dollars, Libyan and Jordanian dinar, he'd also retained several sickles, just in case, he'd only needed to use very small denominations of the Egyptian currency so far to buy the fruit and a bottle of water.

Finishing the fig he felt around in his bag again for the book.

It was one of the few books he'd found on the ship, and it had been well used when he'd found it.

It was also something he'd stolen from the ship when he'd left.

He felt bad, stealing from friends of Mr Diggory, but…it seemed too useful.

It was a English to Arabic dictionary, which presumedly one of the wizards on board had written notes in for his fellow sailors and travellers.

The notes were throughout the small book.

Harry wasn't sure how much it would help him, but he felt he had to take every chance and explore any option, after all, Hubert had given him that piece of advice.

-/

The sun had started to slip down over the buildings and the shops begun to close before he felt ready to explore them. Despite no one paying him any attention he still felt…out of place here.

He could still feel the sun on the back of his neck, the sweat on his back and arms, neither his neck or arms had begun to burn, he fancied it was all the months spent in the garden under Aunt Petunia's warden-like gaze.

Now that it was beginning to get quieter he could roam around the shops, his book in hand to try and find…what? Harry wasn't sure, he hadn't seen anything like the Leaky Cauldron in his wanderings throughout the day, and without access to his bank account or his 'fame' he doubted he would be able to get a room anywhere like it.

Any luck, fortune or life would be up to him, it was a feeling, if not a situation that he had felt for most of his life, especially before Hogwarts. His relatives had always said that they would do nothing for him, the fact that he had a roof over his head was something he should have been plenty grateful for enough, so they said.

Now, as Harry began towards the first closed shop with all its notices around its doors he knew, even if he could go back to the Dursleys he would choose not to, even though he knew it would mean not even having a roof over his head.

Fortunately it was still oppressively warm.

-/

Harry woke with a shudder and a cough.

After doing several passes of all of the wizarding shops, and then later some of the ones he wasn't sure of, he'd found a quiet alcove of a building. Casting a few spells around himself to maintain his seclusion and tried to rest, or even sleep.

Extracting from his bag some dates and a squashed fig he sipped some more of his now _very_ warm water.

It was still very early, but the shop he had decided on was not, in fact the square, or octagon or whatever shape it was, and it wasn't busy at all.

His clothes were crumpled, not that he'd thought to grab any extras when he'd left Hogwarts, but he walked towards the shop as confidently as he could.

The shop was the only one he'd found that had the words 'wanted' and 'shop' on it. He assumed that given where it was placed they were looking for some sort of helper, rather than seeking a criminal, although as Hubert had explained; just for having left Britain he was a criminal; escaping the Ministry's tendrils. Going somewhere that the Ministry couldn't extradite him from was another thorn into the Ministry, even though (he hoped) they hadn't noticed he'd done so yet.

Walking into the shop was an assault on his sense of smell. It was like the potion supply and apothecary shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, but it was so much more intense, much more…present, it almost felt like a wave assaulting him.

Someone said something, but Harry didn't identify the noise and looked around.

There was an imposing figure standing behind the counter, he had a trimmed beard and was looking down at him imperiously.

"I um…there's a note on the window, for someone to…" Harry trailed off.

"You boy?" The man asked as he stepped out from behind the counter. "You were outside last night?" He asked with a sniff.

Harry nodded, remaining standing up straight he didn't try to offer him his hand or anything like that.

"English?" The man asked.

Harry nodded.

"Wand," he requested.

Harry put his hand into his pocket and then paused, it was the most valuable thing he had with him, or the most useful. The invisibility cloak Dumbledore had implied was valuable, but Harry wasn't sure how much he should have trusted Dumbledore, if he would have forced him to compete in the Triwizard. "Why?"

The man laughed. "Cautious of course," he paused looking to him. "Not in British…" he paused again searching for the word "education?"

Harry shook his head.

"But you have some magical education enough boy?" He asked.

Harry nodded again. "I can work, anything," he said, trying not to sound worried or desperate.

The man looked down at him for a moment, seemingly deliberating in his mind and then walked back to the counter lifting a portion of it up. "Through here boy," he gestured.

Harry followed him and saw more jars of ingredients behind the counter. All of the writing was in Arabic, so he couldn't discern much, only by sight.

"In here, clean. No magic," he said and gestured a side corridor where there were some pegs. "Put your bag here boy."

"Harry," Harry interjected. Being called boy made him think of his relatives too much.

"We shall see," was all the man said as he left the room, pausing on the threshold. "No magic, you should be aware of the consequences should you use it on these."

Then he was gone and Harry was left alone in the room that he could only now see properly that the man wasn't blocking the light.

There were four big sinks, all with potion making equipment in it. Beside these there were even more piled up. Cups of stirrers and other things.

Turning around there looked to be some mops and buckets and other cleaning items.

Hanging up his bag, pausing only to extract his water bottle he sighed, and looked around for the soap and cleaning materials. His relatives and Snape's classes were two things that had prepared him for work like this. He wouldn't have even thought to use magic, seeing Mrs Weasley ordering things around was the first time he had ever considered that magic could be used for such tasks.

Since he'd found out about magic, it had been…magical, fantastical, and dangerous. But since he'd been at Hogwarts, it had been danger he'd got himself into, not like the Tournament, all he'd wanted was to watch, see people who actually _wanted_ to adventure and challenge themselves.

As he moved the small cauldrons out of the mostly empty sink and started to run water, he reflected, despite being in a country without any friends or support, and not speaking the language and having no idea what the next day might bring, at least he was in control of that, and that fact made him feel much more safe than where he had been at Hogwarts.

—/ — \\\—

The Tournament had been delayed a week while it was decided what to do concerning the contract and Harry Potter's disappearance.

What Hermione had heard from the gossip around the tower from the more senior students was that they couldn't put off the first task much more than that because of the wording in the contract. So a week it was, so they could find Harry.

She felt more isolated in the tower than ever before, Ron had implied more than once that she had helped Harry abandon the school and their house.

She'd countered that they had all abandoned him when he'd found out his name was in the cup.

Ron had then said some very nasty things to her, and they hadn't spoken since, she wasn't sure if she would _ever_ speak to him again after what he'd said.

Then she was summoned to the headmaster's office.

-/

She refused the tea he'd offered.

"I have had some rather concerning reports delivered to me Ms Granger," the headmaster began.

Hermione looked from the floor up to the top of his desk where the tea set was laid out, then to the floor and then back to the front of the desk. "A…About professor?" She asked in as innocent tone as she thought she could achieve.

The headmaster looked at her over the tea set on the desk. "Mr Potter of course Ms Granger. He is the participant of a wizarding contract, the responsibilities of which are grave and binding."

"But it's just a game, a tournament that's what-" Hermione tried but the headmaster silenced her with a look.

"Mr Potter has abandoned the protections that Hogwarts offers Ms Granger, and those that the Ministry provided, as part of the Tournament's wizarding contract," he paused and offered a smile to her.

Hermione, not for the first time in this conversation became worried. The level of tension and concern had been building in her housemates since Harry had disappeared, she'd thought it was them, but the headmaster seemed really quite pressuring. Hermione nodded to his smile but didn't say anything.

"I…I don't know anything headmaster, I told Professor McGonagall that earlier in the week," she explained.

The Headmaster nodded. "Indeed Ms Granger," he paused. "Unfortunately, I have several in-depth reports that say Mr Potter was seen, entering and exiting your house's common room," he paused "not wearing his invisibility cloak."

Hermione felt the temperature in the room slide down as a weight like a bag of lead shot dropped into her stomach.

"But, perhaps you were mistaken when you spoke to Professor McGonagall?" He asked brightly.

Hermione found herself nodding.

"I also have it on good authority from Mr Filch that Mr Potter has left his owl with instructions to only respond to you."

Hermione bit the side of her mouth hard, hard enough that she tasted blood in her mouth, but it was enough to stop the surprise showing on her face. She hadn't thought to check, she hadn't even really thought about Hedwig at all in Harry's disappearance.

"This is a very serious situation Ms Granger. Mr Potter was a charge of this school and his presence," he paused, watching her "like all students, under my purview," he paused again and caught her gaze. "Therefore, I must instruct you to contact Mr Potter and order him to return to Hogwarts, his safety and participation in the contract is required."

"I don't think I can-" Hermione was cut off again by the Headmaster.

"Ms Granger, I do not think you appreciate the seriousness of this situation," the Headmaster's tone had changed. "Mr Potter's safety and security is of paramount importance. If you fail to contact Mr Potter, ordering him to return, I will have no option but to expel you from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for impeding a Ministry sanctioned event and wizarding contract."

Hermione felt tears well up in her eyes, she wasn't sure if she could breathe for several moments. Then she was coughing and gulping for breath.

"Are you alright Ms Granger?" The Headmaster asked.

"I, yes. But, headmaster I…" she coughed.

"I do not take these actions lightly Ms Granger, Mr Potter should have known this, he is a participant in a wizarding contract, it is a grave situation, which we must all address," the Headmaster finished as Hermione heard the door at the back of his office swing open.

As she stumbled to get up the Headmaster spoke again. "You have a week to provide proof of receipt of contact Ms Granger, I know you will do what is right for yourself, and for Mr Potter, we do not want him in any undue duress," he finished as she walked out.

-/

Hermione stumbled down the stairs of the Headmaster's office. She couldn't quite process what had just happened.

But she knew where she had to go, even if it was just to investigate what the Headmaster had told her.

In the owlery she did not have to wait long before a snowy white owl flew down from high up in the rafters to her.

"Hedwig," she said, her voice cracking, she wiped away tears on her cheek that had been running since she had exited the Headmaster's office.

Hedwig landed on a perch, offering her her leg. Attached was a rough envelope with an equally roughly written letter.

_Hermione_,

_I've told Hedwig I'm leaving. That she can't come._

_Look at the last few years, every year, something dangerous, deadly… _There was a smudge of ink where Harry had let his quill sit on the parchment for too long. _Dumbledore said I'd have to do my best. After he said there was increased danger at this thing. I can't just hope that it all goes along fine. I don't want to be wondering every day if something's going to happen or someone's going to…_ there was another smudge of ink. _like Ron_ was all she could read through the ink-soaked parchment. _I don't feel safe, and all Dumbledore says is that I have to participate because it's a contract, which I didn't enter into! I'm going where the Ministry can't pursue me, I hope at least._

_I hope…hope you do well Hermione._

_Harry._

Hermione turned the parchment over in her hands and looked around the owlery, there was no one in here, but to be safe she shot a spell at the door, closing and locking it as she cast around in a wide arc a simple detection spell that was at least a year above what they were studying. Even with Professor Moody's accelerated programme.

Satisfied there was no one in the room she looked at Hedwig. "If I asked you to take a letter to Harry what would you do?"

Hedwig tried to bite her hand.

Hermione exclaimed with a shout "I'll take that as a no." Reaching it back in surprise and anguish.

Hermione reached into a pocket feeling for the leather cover of the parchment pad and miniature quill. It had been something of an impulse purchase the second time she'd been to Hogsmede, but it was something she had used often since then, often enough that she'd recently bought a new pad for interior of the leather pad.

Leaning on Hedwig's perch her hand hovered over the pad. She couldn't send a message to Harry, she wouldn't try, she decided as she wrote.

'If something's coming Hermione and you feel like you've got no control, do something and make sure you take control' her father had said that to her when she'd been bullied in school.

If she was going to be expelled for something she had no control over, then she would go. She agreed with Harry, Hogwarts no longer felt like a safe place.

She transfigured one of the pieces of parchment into an envelope.

"Take this to my parents' house Hedwig, stay for them to send a reply, as fast as you can," she moved closer to tie the letter to Hedwig, who didn't try to bite her, as she finished tying it she whispered to the owl. "I'm not sure how long we'll be here."

Hedwig chirped an acknowledgment and then took to the air, leaving through the open roof.

As she let out a nervous laugh, followed by "Oh no, what have I done?"

—/ — \\\—

Robert Granger was at home finishing a cup of tea, he'd just seen off the boiler man and said goodbye to a couple of hundred pounds to get it fixed when an owl flew in through the conservatory window.

The odd way of the world that his daughter had found herself inducted into had quickly become normal, even if he knew, not just suspected that his daughter got up to a lot more things than she said at Hogwarts. There were small scars that she didn't have when she'd left for school. Bags under her eyes and a casual attitude to injury that he'd seen in himself when he'd been in the army, on his way to a quiet life. He'd had a talk with her each year about it. This year with this tournament would hopefully be a change.

The snowy white owl flew down and landed on a small perch that he and his wife had set aside for visiting birds from Hermione's magical school and knew it would wait for a reply.

Opening the envelope he knew immediately something was wrong.

Hermione always penned them letters using some of the finest paper stock, and her handwriting was always perfectly styled and calm. This letter had been hastily written and it was small notepad sized stock.

He read through it quickly, and then again, more slowly and then looked to the owl.

"Can you wait, I need to make a few phone calls."

Grabbing the phone off the wall, his first call was going to be to his wife, but he stopped himself. He needed a plan first to retrieve his daughter from that school.

"Lukas!" He said as one of his old mates from the army answered. "Yes, long time, I need to call in a favour," Robert said with a smile, despite what he'd just read. "Yes, it is unusual, do you know anyone with a steam train?" After the man on the other end of the phone laughed at such an odd request he asked why. "My daughter's at a special school in the highlands, hard to reach, I can't say more, and yes, by train is the only way, and it needs to be steam."

There was some silence before his friend asked where.

Robert stopped and thought for a second. "Just a mo' hang on." He said running to his office.

Hermione had said the castle was unplottable, but the town, which he'd given her permission to visit wasn't, wasn't as such, there still had to be a presence, and the castle 'looks like a ruin to non-magicals' Hermione had said. Before he'd signed the permission slip, he'd sat with her and an ordinance survey map, working out exactly where it was 'call it a challenge Hermione, just in case'.

Returning to the phone he described the location.

"_Look Robert, it's an unusual request, but I owe you, hugely, and if your daughter's in trouble, really weird specific trouble, I've got some mates, train nuts, I think we can help._ W_hen do you need this?"_

Robert cringed. "Next weekend is when she says she'll need to get out."

Lukas whistled through the phone. "_Cutting it fine. I'll start the old network going now. We'll get something out there if we have to push. They love a challenge. Saturday afternoon, that's probably the earliest. I'll be in touch later._"

Robert hung up the phone and grabbed some writing paper and started to write a quick, concise letter that lacked much information. Only saying that Hermione should be ready to leave by the station Saturday afternoon, and that dad and his old friends would be there to help. He wrote a second page, informing the Headmaster Hermione would be leaving Hogwarts.

Tying the note to the snowy owl he looked at it saying "This needs to go to only Hermione, you'll make sure of that won't you?"

The owl chirped in an almost annoyed way as it took off and out through the conservatory.

Robert watched it go as he returned inside to call his wife, who would be he had no doubt confident in her daughter's abilities to manage her situation. It was something they almost always had confidence in their daughter to manage her situation with calm and grace.

-/

Hermione had left her housemates under the pretence of studying in the library. At least, that's what she'd thought when she'd left the common room, and would have said if she'd been asked.

But no one had asked, in fact no one had spoken to her all that much.

Ron hadn't even asked for help with his homework at all, instead he'd started to gravitate towards Parvati and Lavender.

She walked towards the library, then took a calm detour down one of the lesser used side corridors and outside towards the two visiting schools' conveyances.

Knocking on the door of the carriage one of the Beauxbaton students seemed surprised when she'd asked to see Madame Maxime, but hadn't questioned further.

Hermione was shown into a large space for the carriage which seemed a combination of office and bedroom. It seemed the carriage was like the wizarding tent that she had stayed in at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Ms Granger, this is and unexpected visitation…" Madame Maxime said as she came into the room, moving around it with ease as she took a seat at the desk opposite her.

"I…I'm not sure where to start, only to say my French isn't amazing," Hermione laughed nervously.

Madame Maxime watched her.

"I…I think I will be leaving Hogwarts at the end of this week…expelled," Hermione found herself saying, her voice cracking.

Madame Maxime looked to her "Why dear child, you are, so Professor McGonagall tells me one of her most excellent pupils, an 'excelling student'."

Hermione sat into the chair, surprised. "That's very nice Madame Maxime, but…the Headmaster gave me an ultimatum…one that I cannot fulfil." Hermione felt tears come to her face again.

"Dear child, don't cry, here," a tissue box floated over to her. "Tell me, and perhaps we can find a solution, everything has one," she paused and smiled. "And I think, that you are here, is because you have already thought of one to your troubles."

-/

A week came and went, Hermione Granger had received a letter shortly after she had sent one.

But she had not approached the Headmaster with what it said.

As Saturday began and her housemates left the Gryfffindor tower Hermione packed her trunk with everything she had and looked around the room. Crookshanks was pacing up and down the room, seemingly eager to depart. Emotions cascading through her, Crookshanks bounded over, rubbing against her legs she let out a sigh and looked down at him, shrunk her trunk and left the room with him beside her.

She was confronted at the exit to the castle by Professor McGonagall who looked disappointed and annoyed and the Headmaster. Neither paid Croookshanks any attention.

"Ms Ganger, I had hoped you would bring your correspondence to me regarding Harry," he said as he stepped aside to let her into the courtyard.

"I didn't contact Harry, Hedwig wouldn't," she said as she walked past them outside.

The headmaster shook his head. "Ms Granger, did I not make myself clear, this was your only option. You understand what your expulsion will mean."

"Headmaster! You cannot be serious, Ms Granger is under my charge and my house she cannot-" The Professor began.

"Minerva, Harry's return and security is my primary concern," he said with an anger and gravity Hermione had not heard before.

Hermione reached into her pocket, withdrawing the short note her father had written. "I am withdrawing from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she handed the Headmaster the note who handed it over to Professor McGonagall.

"It's his hand Headmaster," McGonagall said to the headmaster, then she looked directly at Hermione. "We'll put you up in Hogsmeade until transport can be arranged Ms Granger."

"I need to be going Professor, I have transport," Hermione said and forced herself to turn away from her…now former teachers.

"Ms Granger, wait, I want you to contact Harry, tell him-" the Headmaster called out.

But Hermione forced herself to keep walking down the path and out the school gates.

She continued to walk, without looking back toward the station. Along the way she was intercepted, by Fred and George.

"Saw you getting told off by the Headmaster," said Fred.

"And our head of house, anything serious?" Asked George.

Hermione smiled, and then laughed. "Just…."she trailed off. "Just."

"Fit of hysterics George," Fred said.

"Must be the weather," George commented.

"Just them trying to expel me," Hermione finished as she approached the station. "I withdrew."

"What?!" They both exclaimed.

"They tried to force me to contact Harry, I didn't know where he was," Hermione said as she spelled open the gates to the station, not breaking her stride as she did so.

"And the Headmaster threatened to expel you?" George whistled.

"And now what? There's no trains until next month Hermione, I bet we can get dad get a floo opened to your house," Fred offered.

Hermione smiled. "My dad said he'd sort something, I just have to wait till the afternoon."

Fred and George exchanged looks. "We'll wait with you, gotta show you some Gryffindors are still loyal to those who are true Gryffindors," Fred said.

"Even if they're no longer at Hogwarts," George smiled at her "they're some of the best kind of Gryffindors."

The afternoon wore on and Fred disappeared, saying he was heading back up to the castle for 'some supplies'. Returning with a huge picnic basket full of food.

She knew where the food had come from without asking and lamented one of the things in her 'to do list' was for an organisation to protect elvish welfare. One of the many things she wouldn't get to do at Hogwarts.

Afternoon slowly slipped away as the sun went down.

"Do you want me to sort out a room with Madam Rosmerta, she can probably do you a good deal and then you can floo to London?" George asked.

Hermione shook her head, she suspected, or perhaps it was her paranoia, that the Headmaster would be expecting that.

Then she heard a collection of noises; a high-pitched whistle in the far distance and Ron's voice.

"I heard Dean say he saw them coming down here Professor," Ron's voice drifted towards them.

Both George and Fred leapt to their feet.

Hermione also had walked to the edge of the station to look off into the distance.

"Ron, you sneak, you're as bad as Percy," George said as they turned around and saw Ron walking onto the station, followed by the headmaster and Professor McGonagall.

"Ms Granger, fortunate that we have located you," the Headmaster said looking over at her and to Fred and George.

"What have you been doing with Hermione?" Ron asked in accusatory tone.

"Being good Gryffindors, to one of our own," Fred answered.

"As you should have," George finished.

"Ms Granger has resigned herself from Hogwarts, and should no longer have any allegiance," the Headmaster said, but Hermione felt his words were directed at her. She heard Crookshanks hiss.

Hermione wondered if this encounter might've been improved by the presence of another magical creature, but she doubted having Hedwig hoot would help, she had sent her ahead to her parents' house. Not turning around she heard another high pitched whistle.

"That however can be reversed Ms Granger," the Headmaster called over to her.

Hermione turned around to face the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall.

Ron was stood beside them, while Fred and George were positioned off to the side, in between them.

Crookshanks wandered between the empty space that no one was standing in to sit beside her.

"I was, perhaps, somewhat hasty in my-" Dumbledore began.

"Threat to expel me?" Hermione challenged.

"What?" Ron looked between her and the Headmaster.

"I withdrew before he could," Hermione said simply.

"Under Ministry education guidelines you are an underage Ms Granger, you will require formal education," the Headmaster drew his wand, surprising Professor McGonagall and everyone present.

Hermione felt Crookshanks move closer to her, she could feel him purring against her legs. It kept her calm as the Headmaster pointed his wand at her.

"They are guidelines Albus!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed and looked over to her. "And I am sure Ms Granger is not so stupid as to walk out of her education without a foundation to fall back on."

The Headmaster lowered, but did not put away his wand and looked to Professor McGonagall.

Hermione meanwhile was blissfully saved from answering anything further by the arrival of a small train, blowing its whistle as it came into Hogsmeade station towing a break van.

It came to a smooth halt in front of her and her father leapt out. "Hello Hermione," he said as he wrapped her in a hug and smiled a icy smile at the Headmaster.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I hear you tried to expel my daughter, from what your teachers told my wife and I was the 'premier and most professional school for magic'."

"Robert, is there a switch track around here?" Called someone from the train.

"We'll help, we know where it is," George offered grinning from ear to ear, like his brother as they ran towards the small train and started to gesture further up the station.

Hermione watched them and the train go and in part wanted to see it with them, even in the dwindling light.

"Mr Granger, I must warn you, bringing muggles to a magical-" Dumbledore started again.

"This line isn't private property, and as my daughter's informed me, we can't see the castle, so what's the problem?" her father asked. "And what of your threat?"

Her father held her tight, she only heard him speak like this on very infrequent occasions, dentistry required a calm steady hand, and anger was not something that came often to him.

"A simple misunderstanding Mr Granger, as I was explaining to Ms Granger, if she could simply comply with our investigations into Mr Potter's disappearance this situation could very easily be resolved," the Headmaster explained calmly, although he had not entirely lowered his wand.

Behind her she heard the train pass on the opposite side of track.

"We will be leaving now Headmaster Dumbledore," her father explained in a calm voice.

"And your daughter's education Mr Granger, as a witch she requires formal education in the magical arts," Dumbledore tried again as the train came back down and, Hermione assumed her father's friends connected it back up to the brake van.

Hermione felt Crookshanks jump over onto the brake van as the train's whistle blew. "I took the opportunity that the Triwizard afforded me Headmaster," she took a step back as her father led her to the break van and stepped aboard.

They both stood on the outside as the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall watched.

"Hermione! You can't just leave!" Ron called as he ran over to the brake van.

Hermione felt the train pull on the brake van and they began to move away.

Hermione wasn't sure what to say to him, that he shouldn't have done all the things that he'd done. Shouldn't have treated her and Harry as he'd done.

"Harry did," she said simply.

"And you've done it in much more style!" Fred called after her.

"Make sure you write Hermione, you are the best of the Gryffindors!" George called as both twins ran to keep up with the train as it pulled away from the station.

Then, Hogsmeade station was left with only the scent of coal burning from the tiny train that had departed as quickly as it had arrived.

Ron looked between his brothers and along the now empty piece of track where he could just see the light on the train as it moved slowly away.

"Come along Messers Weasley, it's getting late and we've all been out for far too long," Professor McGonagall said, looking over to the headmaster as she waved them through the station's gate and towards the school.

-/

_A/N: _

_This is a story based on Extradition Challenges, except written with a length that I feel it deserves, properly exploring the bit in between Harry escaping and fighting Voldemort._

_I've used the 'Hermione's father was in the army' idea a few times in different stories as both her parents are very boring, without much to go on if I include them I need something to hook their characters on. _

_And I've always liked the idea of slow, silly escape from Hogwarts by train, but this is the first time I've been able to work it into a story. _

_Thanks for reading._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 02**

"So much for your confidence Dumbledore!" Minister Fudge was sat opposite the headmaster in his office.

They'd just been seen together smiling and congratulating Viktor Krum on his success in the first task. Hogwarts' champion Cedric was in second and Beauxbaton's Delacour in third.

The fourth entrant to the Triwizard was only notable by his absence, but noted nonetheless because of the contract.

"Ms Granger was more headstrong than I first thought Minister, compelling her was our best option," Dumbledore commented.

"And a mess it is now, muggles, unconnected by magic on Hogsmeade's grounds!" Fudge exclaimed shaking his head.

"On the rail line beside the town, Ms Ganger's father was surprisingly resourceful," the headmaster commented idly.

"And damnable fact is that the only laws broken were by your students!" The Minister exclaimed in frustration.

"They have been chastised for their involvement with the muggle's train Minister," Dumbledore lied. "Have you had any success determining the whereabouts of Mr Potter?"

Fudge shot him a look. "If you had policed your school properly Dumbledore that would not be required."

"This is not a prison Minister, we are here to educate," the headmaster explained calmly.

"You did not _educate_ Potter that he is involved in a contract, a Ministry-sanctioned contract! He cannot simply run away from it, he doesn't get to choose, the choice was made!" The Minister exclaimed.

"I did Minister, I had complete trust in Harry that he would participate to the best of his abilities, his decision to leave was highly unexpected," the Headmaster explained calmly.

Fudge exhaled. "I have had some reports that Potter was sighted in Austria, we are working with all European wizarding governments to hasten extradition parchment work for when he is found."

"And treated well," Dumbledore interjected.

"Potter will be detained and extradited to the Ministry of Magic's jurisdiction," the Minister finished. "He'll then be returned to participate in the contract, and he will be required to make reparations for what he has done against the Ministry of Magic."

"My contacts in Europe have not revealed any such visitation by Harry, I thought you were conducting an investigation of Ministry employees?" Dumbledore asked. "Harry went to Hogsmeade station, from there we assume he used the floo or-"

The Minister cut him off. "Or was met by a Ministry employee, there were at least a dozen in this area Dumbledore," he pointed at Dumbledore. "Do not try to assign blame to the Ministry."

"Merely pondering Minister. Harry Potter's return and safety is my primary concern," he paused. "His trace revealed nothing?"

"Current theories are he passed across major ley lines," Fudge said in a calmer tone.

"That is not something taught at Hogwarts, nor is very well known Minister," Dumbledore commented.

"And that is why it points to something else Potter is involved in," he leant forward. "I am advocating instituting fugitive status, now that the tournament is active," he said in a lower tone than he had been speaking.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That is hardly necessary."

"You have another method of compelling the boy to return? The media storm will not be pleasant for any of us," Fudge commented irritably.

"For you," Dumbledore added.

"For _both_ of us Dumbledore, you will support it, or I'll have your position," Fudge pointed at the headmaster. "The board will support it, I will ensure that."

Dumbledore looked at the Minister of Magic cooly. "There is another method of compelling Harry's return. Sirius Black."

Fudge remained silent, after the events of the previous year he had been informed by Dumbledore, but Black still ran from Azkaban and was still an unregistered animagus.

"Pardon him," Dumbledore said simply.

"Pardon him?! You think he'll retrieve Potter?" The Minister spluttered.

Albus looked to the Minister calmly. "If we have failed, perhaps a criminal-"

"To catch a criminal?" Fudge snorted and looked at Dumbledore. "Very well, I will pardon your criminal Dumbledore, but you will support fugitive status for Potter."

Dumbledore looked at the Minister. "That is an escalation of matters Minister."

"The Ministry does not want to wait forever," Fudge paused. "I have been informed, even when the tournament is finished Potter will remain in violation of the contract."

Dumbledore sighed. "I had considered that as a possibility Minister."

"Why couldn't Potter have sought safe haven or familial protection like a civilised wizard?" Fudge muttered to himself.

"Wizarding law is not something taught at Hogwarts, and one of your predecessors campaigned to remove it from our syllabus over a decade ago," Dumbledore commented idly.

"Well, Dumbledore? I'll release your criminal if you underwrite the one you let escape," Fudge asked.

"Mr Potter needs to be retrieved safely, this is no permission for death warrants Minister," Dumbledore warned.

Fudge threw him a look. "The Ministry doesn't release death warrants, don't be melodramatic Dumbledore."

"And I want a guarantee Minister, no future interference from you or the Ministry at Hogwarts, I do not want a repeat of the Dementors," Dumbledore said leaning forward to look at the Minister.

Fudge tugged on his coat, as though the temperature in the room had dropped several degrees. "Very well Dumbledore, I want, we want Potter retrieved, I will have the relevant parchment work drawn up." He rose quickly from his chair.

"Good day Minister," Dumbledore called as he rose from his own chair and over to his desk to pen a letter to Sirius.

Hopefully he would be able to resolve this situation where Ms Granger and he had failed, and, he hoped would avoid issuing any notices calling for Mr Potter's detention and confinement.

-/

Even now, away from Hogwarts and having had 'an adventure of derring-do' as her father had explained to her none too pleased mother, Hermione found herself wishing she was at Hogwarts.

The first task of the Triwizard had been completed, with injuries against all three competitors. How Harry might have coped, being younger and less experienced she didn't know.

Leaning back in her chair she closed the book in French that she had been studying.

A few days after her withdrawal from Hogwarts the deputy headmaster from Beauxbatons _called_ their house, on the telephone to organise a time to meet. Just that act had impressed her parents. It was unlike when Professor McGonagall had shown up one night at their door with a letter and to 'explain about magic'.

Her parents had been reticent to let her go off to boarding school, a magical one at that.

They were still reticent to let her go off to a magical boarding school _in another country_ where she only somewhat spoke the language.

But the deputy head of Beauxbatons had explained they had several bi- and tri-lingual students, including students intending further study in Britain, and courses 'tuned' for this. So that she wouldn't be missing out in British studies at Beauxbatons.

Hermione recalled him saying 'From what Madame Maxime informs me from her discussions with Professor McGonagall and Hermione's other teachers, Hermione is an intelligent capable witch. It is unfortunate Headmaster Dumbledore chose to….attempt to influence her in such a way. We will never, and our school's policies are also overseen by various European wizarding organisations and standards associations'.

It had further impressed her parents that the deputy head explained everything calmly, instead of the somewhat bristly way Professor McGonagall had. And had reassured her parents that should she wish to return home, a special international floo was always available, as the school had many students not from France attending there.

But it had been suggested that she improve her French to a better level. So she was taking this time, in between having withdrawn from Hogwarts and beginning at Beauxbatons to study with a tutor every second day. During that time forms would need to be filled out for her to study abroad, documents needed to be submitted to the Ministry of Magic, which thankfully Beauxbatons' staff would do and various other things related to this.

She also hadn't heard from, nor tried at all to contact Harry. Hedwig wouldn't take anything to him, even now they were away from Hogwarts.

There was also a question she had thought, though not mentioned to anyone; if the headmaster was ready to use her love of Hogwarts against her to find Harry, would he continue to monitor her after she'd withdrawn?

She'd asked the deputy head from Beauxbatons; if there was anything tying her to Hogwarts now that she'd withdrawn. He'd hesitated long enough for her father and mother to press the issue.

To which he'd said that once all the paperwork had been completed and she was officially enrolled and a participant of Beauxbatons then, no.

Until then it was slightly more vague, she was technically 'without a school', but tied to Hogwarts regarding her education thus far.

As she sat wondering this Crookshanks wandered up, purring against her legs.

Reaching down she ran her hand through his fur.

With Crookshanks and Hedwig staying at home with her now there definitely wasn't a mouse problem anywhere around her parents' house or the neighbours' and probably much of the neighbouring streets.

—/ — \\\—

Harry turned over on the bed, listening to the sounds of the city and reached over and pulled on his glasses. Not that he could see much; just the white of the tent.

It was the accommodation Karim had provided for him, after his first day he'd worked throughout the morning and afternoon, cleaning his cauldrons and potions equipment before moving onto the floors.

Karim had come into the room in the early afternoon and just started to laugh, slapping him on the back in amazement.

"You, Harry, are most certainly a" he'd said a word that Harry didn't recognise, it wasn't English he knew that.

It was still intimidating being here and not speaking the local language. Karim hadn't said anything of reassurance. Sometimes he'd just shout 'boy' and get him to do things.

But, Karim paid him and gave him the tent at the back of his shop to stay in, he'd even been invited to his home where his wife smiled at him, but spoke no English served up meals for them and their two youngest children.

The others Karim said were in Russia and Canada as engineers and doctors. Harry had wanted to, but didn't know how to ask if they were muggle or wizarding engineers and doctors.

He even had days off, something which he'd been surprised by. He thought, as he had at the Dursleys that he was just expected to work all hours. Yes, he was being paid for his efforts, but…Harry didn't really know.

He had discovered from asking Karim that there was a wizarding library a short distance away 'you could apparate' Karim had said but then looked at him and shook his head, saying he'd have to teach Harry, to make him more useful.

He wanted to see if there were any reports about the Triwizard Tournament.

Anything that happened in Britain seemed like a minor thing here, but he hoped that there was something akin to an 'international papers' section. He recalled his uncle talking about a work trip he'd been 'privileged' to go to in Germany where he'd had to look for the 'international papers, not all that foreign stuff'.

Sitting up he pulled himself up into a standing position casting some cleansing spells over himself, spells Karim had showed him twice and then said he should be able to manage them.

He grabbed a few pieces of fruit to eat and exited his tent. He found he had had returned back to his standard, more or less of eating smaller meals, as he did living with the Dursleys than at Hogwarts.

At Hogwarts everything tasted so good, and was so plentiful, thinking back, it seemed almost indulgent, even though it was barley two months since he had departed in such a flush and flurry.

-/

Bibliotheca Alexandrina, was a huge modern building, but one that had hidden features only visible to those who could see it.

Harry spent more than 2 hours wandering around before he saw the glowing orbs and a sign marked in more languages than most of the signs in the Bibliotheca.

The orbs illuminated a path down a corridor and then further down a series of steps where he felt the temperature drop a few more degrees.

He spent another hour wandering the shelves and racks before he located the newspaper section, but once there he was able to locate a consolidated British wizarding press publication. It seemed like it had been assembled from multiple publications, not just the Prophet, but some of the journals he'd seen Hermione reading in the library.

And then he saw it, a photo of the first task, with Viktor Krum in first, Cedric Diggory in second and Fleur Delacour in third.

None of them looked like they had had an easy task, all three had blackened and burnt faces. Cedric was bleeding from his torso while Fleur had a deep wound on her face and Viktor's arm seemed to be hanging limply from his arm in the slightly juddery way the wizarding photo moved.

Harry replaced the newspaper and then wondered where to go next, if he should send a letter to Amos Diggory? Then looking around he felt as though a vision of Hermione descended on him, chastising him for not using an opportunity he had; he was in a library! He could at least answer some questions concerning magic, not all of the books could be in Arabic.

Maybe there was somewhere that could help him learn it faster?

-/

Hermione looked out across the chalet's vista.

For Christmas those staying at Beauxbatons went skiing.

The deputy head had said she should come to Beauxbatons and stay over Christmas; it would allow her to ease into school life and have some 'bonding' time with the other students. Her parents had been a little cautious, but after spending a few weeks with them and home alone while she studied they'd let her. It helped now she had a means to contact them in the guise of Hedwig, who had taken to her new environment with ease. Hermione had mostly given up asking the owl if she would take a letter to Harry.

Whatever he'd said to Hedwig before he'd departed must have been strong and meaningful for the owl to be so loyal to his request.

Being amongst French speakers, not just at school but out in the village that the chalet was situated within had really helped her language skills, even though her tutor had praised her on how quickly she had established her French.

Hermione was finding that she was taking notes in English and French. Her fellow students had laughed and said it was common at first.

Those that had asked her, had praised her actions at Hogwarts; her refusal to be blackmailed, even if she couldn't have assisted Headmaster Dumbledore. It was a very worthy trait they said.

She did wonder _where_ Harry was, she had spoken to a few students here whose parents worked within the International Confederation of Wizards who suggested that if Harry was in a wizarding contract, no matter if he'd entered himself, he would be bound by it. And all countries that had extradition agreements with the United Kingdom would be bound to return Harry.

Which meant, Harry had probably gone somewhere where those didn't hold water.

She didn't worry for him, well, not too much, at least she tried.

He had confided in her a while ago, about his life at the Dursleys, 'Ron doesn't _really _understand, he just thinks I had a muggle life, that the Dursleys were "a bit mad", he doesn't totally see', he'd said. She'd noticed the baggy old clothes, huge belt and how much he ate when he was at Hogwarts.

She also remembered the fear he had of the Triwizward, after what Dumbledore had said and what the he'd experienced in the last three years at Hogwarts. She had hoped that all that was behind her.

Hopefully now she was away from it all, it would be.

-/

Christmas wasn't really a thing where he was at the moment, not that it mattered. Before Hogwarts Christmas had just been another day where he had to help cook and clean and stay in his cupboard.

He remembered the cloyingly fatty smells, and being allowed a leg of turkey that had been stripped of most of its meat. Unless Aunt Marge was there and then only her dogs deserved that.

He had to be "grateful" for a burnt Yorkshire pud and a bit of the vegetables, Dudley would never eat those.

However, on a quiet day Karim took him out to an equally quiet piece of desert with a bucket of a potion. He hadn't said what was in the bucket, only he needed him to be more useful.

"It is for…" Karim trailed off. "I do not know the word the English use for it, if you make a mistake, this will help."

For apparition.

Of course he made a mistake, that was what the potion in the bucket was for.

He remembered hyperventilating.

And the pain, it was like a pain that tugged at something unknown within him, like gravity was pulling him down into the earth in spiralised shapes as he had to do with various potions ingredients Karim had had him preparing for the lead up to the new year.

And then the pain stopped, Karim passed him a vial of a potion.

"Again," he said simply.

After twice more making mistakes Harry lost his temper.

"Why even bother with me, I'm a useless person," he shouted fighting back both anger and tears.

Karim walked the short distance between them and bending down to come face to face with him. "Because young Harry, you I suspect will one day need to run out of my life as quickly as you ran into it, even if I do no know why you did either. You do not have parents to teach you, and," he paused. "You are not a useless person, I have had many of them in my employ, now," he said standing up and taking his hand. "Open your senses."

And he disapparated with him.

-/

Ron was in detention, he had blasted a wall in the castle after Malfoy had been mocking him again.

Harry and Hermione had both abandoned their house and their school, and him.

"Well, Mr Weasley? Why are you darkening my office?" Professor McGonagall looked over her desk at him, having floated a cup of tea to him.

"It's Malfoy," he said in a glum tone.

"Mr Malfoy will always be a problem for you Mr Weasley, if you let him," she said as she sipped her tea.

Ron sighed. "It's Harry and Hermione's fault! They've left, abandoning us!" he exclaimed.

The Professor raised an eyebrow as she replaced her own cup on its saucer. "Ms Granger's departure from Hogwarts was unorthodox I will grant you, however completely within the rules, I have heard from Madame Maxime she is settling in well at Beauxbatons," she paused. "Perhaps you can write to her Mr Weasley?"

Ron drained his tea cup and placed it on the table beside him. "And Harry? I hear no one knows where he is."

Professor McGonagall remained silent on this. "Mr Potter was entered into a binding wizarding contract."

"That's what all the teachers say, it's not fair being left here," he muttered crossing his arms.

"As you imply Mr Weasley, you are not alone, you have the rest of your house around you, embrace that."

Ron sighed, "Okay Professor."

-/

"He's not here Headmaster," Remus Lupin said as he opened the door to his cottage.

"Whom do you think I am seeking Remus?" Headmaster Dumbledore walked in.

"Please sit, tea?" Remus asked waving his wand at the kettle.

"I did not expect to find Harry here Remus," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Harry?" Remus asked innocently.

Dumbledore looked at him seriously.

"I doubt Harry even knows where I live," Remus commented.

"And Sirius?" Dumbledore questioned.

"He probably knows where I live," Remus admitted.

"I have an offer for Sirius," he pulled out an envelope. "A full pardon."

Remus remained seated in silent shock. "And the price?"

"Merely to contact Harry, he is after all still a 14 year old inexperienced wizard," Dumbledore offered casually.

"Whom you pressured into participating in the Tournament," Remus commented cooly.

"As a Ministry sanctioned competition the contract is underwritten by them," Dumbledore added.

Remus held up a finger. "As the headmaster of the host school, you share responsibility for the contract and the participants."

"You were a very good Defence teacher Remus, a broad knowledge and breadth of experience," Dumbledore praised as Remus made a pot of tea.

"Just an unfortunate affliction," Remus muttered.

"I have another offer, for you," he passed Remus a letter.

"What is it?" Remus asked, not opening it.

"Employment, for next year," Dumbledore said simply.

Remus narrowed his eyes. "The Ministry must be putting pressure on you."

"The Ministry has assured me their interference in Hogwarts will be minimal," Dumbledore answered.

Remus thought for a few moments. "With conditions, I will."

Dumbledore seemed surprised. "Conditions, Remus I-"

"Guaranteed employment for 5 years," Remus stated. "That's less than what the other teachers have. You also supply wolfsbane."

Dumbledore nodded "I will have a new contract drawn up," he paused and looked at Remus. "And Sirius?"

"If or when I see him I will pass on your request headmaster," he paused and looked at the older man "I really don't know where he is. Probably in the tropics for all I know, somewhere the Ministry couldn't follow."

-/

Cedric sat floating in the prefects' bathroom, the golden egg sitting on the side of the huge bath. He was tracing his wrinkled fingers over the scar on his chest. Madame Pomfrey had made a lot of noise about the dangers they'd faced against the dragons and the tournament in general. 'I voiced my objection, this is an institute of learning! The last one is still cited in healers' journals, some of the worst injuries against children….outside of wars'.

Thinking again of his injuries he moved in the water to his face, the burns from the Swedish Short-Snout had been particularly painful, but those had been healed by Madame Pomfrey's expert touch.

As he was retreating the dragon had reached out and tried to grab him, the claws going deep into his chest.

Madame Pomfrey had been reticent to use a very strong potion or healing charms because of the injury's closeness to his shoulder and arm, lest it affect his ability to cast.

He'd instead had a few potions here and there that would speed up his body's ability to heal.

But the scars would take a lot longer to right themselves and heal.

If he was honest he hadn't expected the tournament to be this…not challenging, he knew that, so…visceral, so…so much blood.

It again confirmed that he had done the right thing in helping Harry Potter. He'd not heard anything about him, and his father hadn't said anything about him. Cedric supposed that was a good thing, that Harry had remained outside of the Ministry's wands. Safe, Cedric hoped. Safer than being forced to participate. He had wanted to be in the Tournament, he'd been reading and preparing as much as he could. But Harry, the fear was real, the terror and surprise, so some of his housemates had said was real when Potter's name came out of the cup. He'd been too excited to notice too much, but generally Hufflepuffs are good at noticing things.

Kicking down he pushed himself toward the edge to grab the egg. It was a mystery, its screeching defeated the few translation spells he knew, though most were for texts. He'd tried a conversion potion, which he doubted would work, but it was left over from some of the potions class in the fifth years' class.

Nothing.

Professor Moody had seemed like he was going to suggest something to him yesterday, but Cho came along the corridor and Moody hobbled off as she approached.

He pushed away from the edge, now with the egg sitting on his chest while he stared up at the ceiling.

"What are you?" He wondered allowed as he closed his eyes for a moment, letting the hot water lull him.

Then, what felt like moments later he coasted gently into the other side of the bath, startled he twisted and the egg fell onto the bottom of the bath.

"Merlin!" He muttered and spun around, swimming down he fumbled with the egg and it suddenly came apart, and under the water he didn't hear screeching, he heard singing.

-/

At Beauxbatons, a letter had arrived from Fleur Delacour about a certain screeching egg, that was the talk of the academy.

Hermione wasn't sure if those in the Tournament should outsource discovering the mystery of the egg, but as one of the students in the library with her said 'it is one school against another, through our champion'.

"Does Fleur say how loud and high-pitched?" Hermione asked, she hadn't seen the letter, but was thinking of the drills her parents used in their dental surgery. When they were in water being washed off or in between teeth the pitch changed. She related it to her fellow students. Those from magical families were unfamiliar with the concept of 'dentist drills', but those from muggle or mixed families quickly understood.

Someone clapped a hand on her back. "Great work Hermione, we'll send a kite immediately."

Hermione looked up in alarm, "Maybe try putting it under water with her head under the water as well, in a bath," she added.

"Of course!" They shouted with a grin as they ran off.

Hermione found herself smiling, she had found it…complicated to integrate into Beauxbatons and supporting Fleur in the Tournament, especially as she still felt ties to Hogwarts, but…Beauxbatons was her school now.

-/


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 03**

Ron turned the letter over in his hands, even reading it felt like somewhat like a betrayal.

It was from Hermione, she'd _abandoned_ him, them, the school, their house to go over to the French side, to Beauxbaton's side.

In the middle of a Tournament.

"Who's the letter from o-brother of ours?" Fred asked, sitting down opposite him. "Mum sending you another letter telling you to stop picking fights?"

Ron scowled at his brother, it was bad enough that he'd been summoned to Professor McGonagall's office because he'd tried punching Malfoy, and _Snape_ had been there as well! He'd been given detention of washing manky old cauldrons, then mum also sent a howler. A lot of his housemates had said 'you need to control your temper', they didn't understand. All of his friends had abandoned him and Hogwarts.

"Hermione," he muttered glumly "she's at Beauxbatons," he handed the letter to Fred.

"Brilliant!" Fred took the letter excitedly.

Ron scowled some more. "She's abandoned us, it's not brilliant Fred."

Fred looked to his brother. "George and I talked to her, Dumbledore tried to get her to tell him where Harry was-" Ron opened his mouth, Fred gave him a look. "She doesn't know, but he still threatened to expel her, didn't she tell you how much it meant to be here?"

Ron crossed his arms, remaining silent. George had explained all of this, he just didn't want to think about it. Not with the Tournament on. Why couldn't _his_ name have been entered instead of Harry's? He'd have stayed instead of running off.

"Is it alright if I show George this, we talked with Hermione for most of the day before she left," Fred asked holding up the letter.

Ron shrugged. "Fine."

-/

"Boy, Harry!" Karim was shouting his name.

Harry walked out, having failed to pull the marigold-yellow washing up gloves off his hands. He'd purchased them a month or two ago to save his hands. Karim hadn't said anything, but one of the rare days when his wife came in she saw them hanging in the cleaning room and just walked over to Karim, pointed him in the chest and then at the gloves. Saying something and laughing. Harry gathered it was something along the lines of 'I told you so'.

"Yes Karim?" Harry asked keeping to the back of the counter. The shop was very busy, Karim had said it would become so in the early weeks of the year. He was relegated to cleaning, and also mixing up some potions, all, Karim said was within his abilities 'to read instructions'. Even if those instructions were in a mix of Arabic and English, the former he was beginning to understand enough of to follow basic instructions at least.

"Harry," he said something to one of his assistance and gestured the back of the shop. "A ship has arrived and is being held up," he extracted a small wad of money. "Make sure it's moved along or find out why."

Harry had extracted his hands from the gloves. "Me but-"

Karim cut him off. "It is an British flagged ship, make them comply or help the customs agent, you should know which."

Harry nodded, he'd accompanied Karim a few times, though he wouldn't say he was an expert and said as much.

"Too many people here, and none speak as good English to negotiate if the captain is causing problems."

Harry nodded. "I'll do my best."

Karim nodded. "As you always do Harry, now go."

-/

Harry stood out behind the shop looking up at the sky to the sun. He'd donned an old hat, in part to tame his hair, and in part to make him look more ambiguous. Turning around he looked to the horizon and closed his eyes, smelling the air and feeling the wind on his skin.

Opening his eyes again he looked up to where the sun was, and considered the apparition location at the docks in his mind.

Feeling the air around him he breathed in slowly, and out, and again in and then he concentrated and felt everything contract and then he was surrounded by the smells and sounds of the dock. The smell of rotting fish and the sound of clanking wood and steel.

Every time he apparated he felt like punching the air, but he didn't instead he looked around for the ship and the customs agent.

Harry immediately recognised the customs agent, 'not by his name, but his stance'. He had a very tightly trimmed darkly-coloured beard, stood straight and had greying hair and shrewd eyes. He held a clipboard and was looking at a watch.

Harry walked up, identifying himself as having been sent by Karim and asking what the problem was.

"Contraband, not declared, alerted by wards," he explained in Arabic. Harry mostly understood what he said. The spoken, he was slowly working out, it helped that most of the people who visited the shop spoke in it, and Karim spoke it to his assistants. And that whenever he went out and about that was the first language anyone spoke. He _had_ to learn some of it.

While he'd hoped to find some sort of shortcut, he'd not discovered any way to learn it faster. Short of locating a magical snake in the desert who might offer him a magical apple, maybe.

"Options?" Harry asked, keeping his questions as short as possible.

"Destroy it, remove to another ship, leave," was the general gist of what he said.

"Can I…enter the ship?" Harry faltered through the language.

"Half way, up board," the man gestured at the boarding plank. "Not on to."

Harry nodded and wandered up the plank and waited for the captain to come down. Karim had always done this in the past few months he'd been with him.

"Yes?" Said a voice.

"Karim sent me," Harry called.

"Got himself an assistant that can speak English?" The man had a broad English accent as he walked down the plank and shook his hand. "A wizard who knows how to work with his hands."

Harry nodded.

"So what's the problem, all our paperwork's up to date, left England no problems," he craned as though trying to see Harry's face. "Have we met before?"

Harry shrugged. "They say you tripped some wards as you sailed in, they're new apparently."

"Wards?" The captain asked curiously.

"Contraband, probably alcohol," Harry explained.

"It's not illegal," he scrutinised Harry. "For you it would be," then muttered to himself. "Dung I'm going to throw you overboard."

Harry shrugged again, he didn't know the details of the law and said so. "I'm just relaying what he's saying."

"What're my choices?" The captain asked.

"Destroy it, transfer it to another ship, or leave." Harry relayed what he'd been told.

"Your master won't be too happy if I leave, he's already fire called my warehouse, and I ain't got another ship near here," he sighed. "I guess you tried bribing him?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think he is the type to be convinced like that."

The captain shaded his eyes and looked down to shore at the man with the clipboard. "No, I think you're right," he said as he clapped eyes on the man. "I'll see my passenger, sort it out."

Harry nodded as they shook hands again and the captain went back up onto his ship yelling something about "dung".

As Harry walked back down the plank he heard glass breaking and a sharp smell overpowering the rotting fish smell turning as he got back onto shore he saw a liquid being banished overboard of the ship from one of the cabins.

"He has destroyed I think," Harry said to the customs agent who smiled at him.

"Good, very good," he paused. "He will still get a fine."

"Of course," Harry tipped his hat slightly. "Do you require me any further?" Harry asked looking back to the ship where there were more crew out on deck.

"No, the captain understands," the customs agent said looking up at the ship.

Harry nodded and walked away towards the apparition point.

-/

Dung cursed as he stood up on the deck of the ship.

"It should have been easy, they never used to check!" He dried himself down, even though the firewhisky was evaporating off of him. "Who's that?"

"Agent of my client dealing with the customs agent."

"Young isn't he?" Dung commented as he squinted trying to focus on the young kid, who'd just turned to look at them. "Looks familiar."

"I thought that," his old friend commented. "Now, you've cost me a berth, time and complications with customs, and all because Dung you 'absolutely guaranteed' a 'bloody good turn over' from your cheap firewhisky."

"It should've been a good easy deal," Dung muttered as he rubbed his chin in thought.

-/

Sirius Black turned the letter over in his hand and wondered again if it was a fake.

He doubted it, Moony knew how to send a secure letter, and get one to him, even where he was hiding, outside of the Ministry's clutches.

He'd know sooner rather than later.

He'd found a wizard's holiday house with an international floo connection, but no floo powder. That he'd stolen from another house. It was very low grade unfortunately, he doubted he'd be able to travel via it.

"Padfoot," said Moony's voice. "You got my letter."

"Yes, Moony. Is it all true?" Sirius asked. Harry was on the run from the Ministry for a contract and he was now pardoned.

"Yes, I have my job back," Moony said in a deadpan tone.

"And all I have to do is find Harry?" Sirius asked.

"You have your pardon now, it's just to persuade you," Moony said carefully. "We should talk face to face."

"Now that I'm a free man?" Sirius couldn't stop the elation in his voice, he felt himself smiling, having the words confirmed by Moony.

"Indeed, Padfoot, indeed."

-/

Harry walked around the potions lab, he had six potions brewing, all the same thankfully, but there were four others in the room as well. Karim was in and out to check on those.

He knew what they were, though they went by a different name here - wolfsbane.

Brewing the potions didn't earn him any extra money, but at least it gave him something else to do, other than cleaning and bringing in the bulk potion supplies and refilling the lower cost ones around the shop, or bagging them up into easily purchasable bags.

He tried not to let his mind wander too much. Yesterday he'd had a chance to visit the library again, it seemed the second task had been run at Hogwarts in the Triwizard.

Swimming under the lake.

He'd never really liked being under the water and something like that filled him with dread at just the thought.

The school he and Dudley had been sent to had taken them all to the local leisure centre to learn to swim.

Dudley and his friends had thought it would be funny to push him in at the diving end, he'd been so thin he'd just dropped to the bottom.

He distinctly remembered the struggling of his thin arms against the crushing water, struggling to breathe and then-

Harry shook his head and walked around the potions again picking up a stirring rod.

"Three, two, one. One, two, three," he counted to himself as he stirred, walking around each potion. Then stopping at the wolfsbane, noting it was still swirling but sticking slightly at the edges and adjusted the temperature down slightly.

Accidental magic had saved his life, he'd woken up with the lifeguard pulling him from the shallow end and all he remembered was the burning feeling at the back of his throat of the chlorinated water.

On hot summer's days Dudley and his mates would go to the leisure centre, he'd have to make do in the garden, drinking from the hose when Aunt Petunia wasn't looking and dousing himself if she was out of sight for a long time.

The swimming lesson at the leisure centre hadn't left him with a fear of water, not exactly. They'd taken them back more times after that, and any time where he could play without needing to look around, wary of Dudley was a time to enjoy. He and his mates found others to torment other than him.

But to swim down to the depths of the lake, that concept filled him with dread. He also wasn't sure who they'd have kidnapped and stuck underwater. Hermione maybe, she was the only one whom he'd really missed talking with since he had made his sojourn away from Hogwarts.

-/

The Minister for Magic was back in his office, as he knew he would be, with the second task finished and more photo opportunities for a successful Tournament.

'Showcasing the successful diplomacy between the schools and the international community' Minister Fudge had used this phrase several times.

"Well Dumbledore, your Black has had three months to seek out Potter, and nothing, just a costly admission in the Wizengamot concerning Black's incarceration, my predecessor's work at least," Fudge sipped his firewhisky and gave him a look. "There still remain unasked questions surrounding the events surrounding Black's sentencing."

Dumbledore sat up slightly straighter. "There are Minister?"

"Some of my associates Dumbledore have raised questions, now that we are re-evaluating Black's sentencing and Potter's involvement here about his parents' death and his placement following that event. By all wizarding rights and law he should have been placed with his next relative, his godfather," Fudge left the statement hanging.

Dumbledore watched him calmly. "As you have noted Minister, that was not possible."

"There were other members of Black's family, some with muggle connections that would have satisfied even those who may not have been sympathetic to a Potter and Malfoy sharing a house," Fudge paused and smiled at Dumbledore, raising his glass. "But all evidence, mostly hearsay I admit suggests your involvement following his parents' deaths."

Dumbledore coughed. "As you say Minister, hearsay at best."

"Of course, I've quashed such questions, no use bringing up the past Dumbledore, at least for now," Minister Fudge smiled.

"For now Minister?" Dumbledore began.

"In light of this, and the inaction of Black to locate and retrieve Potter I want you to endorse a capture and control warrant on Potter as a fugitive,"

"A death warrant is hardly necessary, Mr Potter is a-"

"A fugitive of a Ministry contract Dumbledore, I want this announced before Easter and before the close of the Tournament," he fixed Dumbledore with a look. "Or I may not quash these investigations."

Dumbledore sighed. "Anything else Minster?"

The Minister drained his firewhisky. "Yes, get one of Potter's friends to endorse the warrant, it will 'soften' things."

"It _may_ diffuse criticism of your actions Minister," Dumbledore countered.

"Our actions Dumbledore, you assured me the cup could not be perverted, and you have yet to adequately explain how Potter was entered, and might I remind you – you assured me that you would get Potter to participate, _and_ that Black's pardon would be beneficial to us."

"You have made the latter a success for you," Dumbledore commented even if it was a detriment for him.

Fudge laughed. "Always the last word in, even against yourself Dumbledore. I'll see you tomorrow, I already have the warrant ready."

-/

Ron wasn't sure about this as he stood beside the Minister next to Dumbledore as the cameras from the Daily Prophet, and a French paper and another official one from the Ministry flashed at him.

He had heard his dad talk about 'capture and control' warrants, but he wasn't sure if Harry deserved it.

They were for criminals, trying to trick muggles and doing other stuff like that.

Not for someone who used to be at Hogwarts.

The Minister was talking about Harry's safety, and how to ensure there was no danger there was no bounty placed on Harry's warrant. It was 'merely a formality' to encourage Harry to return to Britain.

That his friends and housemates wanted him back.

Someone pushed him in the back towards the lectern.

"Uh, right, um, yeah, I support the Ministry in this, it's for the safety Harry," Ron said, his hands sweatily smudging the ink on the parchment he was reading.

"I endorse the warrant," someone muttered in his ear.

"I endorse the warrant-" Ron repeated in a monotone and was going to say more but he was pulled away from the lectern.

"And we hope Harry that you return to the safety and security of Hogwarts and Magical Britain, secure in the knowledge that you will be regarded and protected," Dumbledore was now saying.

Ron slinked towards the back of the stage, unsure if he should have stood up, but glad that he'd done something, and would be recognised for having done _something_. Unlike Hermione who'd just run away, unwilling to help them or help find Harry. Ron found himself smiling, at least _he_ had done something, and mum would be happy, there was no blasting walls or spelling the stairs as Malfoy approached them.

He'd helped Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic, that was helpful.

-/

"Thank you Mundungus, it certainly did look intriguing on first look-" Dumbledore praised.

"I can organise some people if you'd like to-" Mundungus began.

Albus shook his head as he extracted a money bag from a drawer, levitating it over to the other wizard. "That should pay off your debts incurred on your journey, I think your accidental vision of him is well worth it."

Mundungus was looking into the bag. "Well worth it, thanks." He grinned rising from his chair. "You can hold onto the memory as long as you want," he tapped his head. "Got the important bits."

"Indeed," Albus said with a smile.

-/

Minerva had been enjoying the peace and quiet that Easter brought. There was the final task to come, but the castle and students had quietened down into study and concern for the final exams.

She'd even had time to read an escapist novel when Albus summoned her with the utmost urgency.

"You have a memory you wish me to view?" She asked curiously.

"I believe of Harry Potter," he said as they approached his pensieve.

Minerva wrinkled her nose, the scent of dead fish was strong, underlying that was the scent of firewhisky. Looking around they were stood on the deck of a ship with Mundungus Fletcher.

"Mungungus' memory, and illicit alcohol no doubt," she shaded with her hand. "Somewhere in the Middle East?"

"Very good Minerva, very good," Albus said as though he was praising a student. "Down there, with the customs agent, is who we are to see," he said gesturing along the plank connecting the ship to shore.

As they approached the young man standing with the customs agent, Mundungus' eye sight became evident as the boy's face became more indistinct.

"Not very clear," she commended.

"But is it Harry?" Albus asked.

The young boy turned to look at the ship, the hat he was wearing cast shadows onto his face. She could see that he had long hair that wasn't being contained by the hat, it was longer outside of it. It was the same thickness and texture as Mr Potter's, the colour the same and he wore the same glasses.

He carried himself differently than he had at Hogwarts, his wand tucked into a deep inner pocket of the loose white linen shirt he was wearing.

"It could be," she pursed her lips, Potter looked fine, he appeared well enough fed, certainly better than when he'd returned to Hogwarts the past years, he didn't appear out of sorts. The anguish and fear she'd seen in his body language when his name had come out of the cup was no longer present.

His mouth was moving in the slowed down section of the memory Albus had, but they couldn't hear anything over the noise of the dock. Mundungus' hearing at this range would have been worse than his eye sight.

"That is enough," he said, then she was drawn out of the memory.

"You're going to inform the Ministry?" She asked.

"There is a warrant out for Mr Potter Minerva," Albus said in a weary tone.

"Outside of the Ministry's jurisdiction, no doubt, if it is Potter that is why he is there," she paused "a clever move by whoever advised him to go there."

Albus looked at her surprised.

"We all travelled in our younger days Albus," she commented.

"Harry need not have run so far," he said shaking his head.

"A contract is a contract, we know that," she looked to the headmaster. "It is not something a muggle-born" she paused. "or muggle-raised wizards know."

"Are you questioning me Minerva?" He asked curiously.

She shook her head. "He was under my care as a member of my house Albus, he deserved better than being thrust into this competition, look at the injuries Mr Diggory has-"

"Mr Diggory will recover Minerva, Madame Pomfrey-" he began.

"Poppy's told me enough about what's happened to these children so far Albus, I'm glad that the Tournament's brought our schools closer together, but I'm equally glad there's only a final task to go. Then we can end this brutality and return to educating the children."

Albus watched as she left the room briskly with an annoyed air trailing in her wake.

-/

This was more challenging than doing any Hogwarts exam Harry thought to himself as he dipped the quill into the ink again.

He'd spent pre-dawn today bottling a series of potions that Karim and he, though mostly he had finished brewing last night.

Karim hadn't asked him to bottle them this morning, but before the sun rose the temperature was cooler and he'd found that they bottled much easier.

Now he just had to write out the ingredients in English _and _Arabic for Karim's clients.

The latter he just copied from Karim's notes, but he'd needed to translate and write down and double check.

These pre-prepared potions for witches, wizards and travelling mages seemed to be popular and over the past half a year seemed to have improved in popularity. Harry had wondered if it was his cheap labour and fastidiousness in cleaning that had led Karim to have this improvement.

He had had a roof, albeit a tent over his head, food at least half of the week with Karim's family most weeks, some money, and the freedom to explore a city where no one knew, or cared after him. Karim had given him the freedom of apparition knowledge, so the wider surrounds were also open to him, though he hadn't wanted to go further, Harry still felt under prepared for this new life he found himself in. There was still a longing for the…not exactly safety, Hogwarts didn't feel like that when he'd left, nor security, not after the last few years….no it was more…the lack of concerns, the framework of learning that he found wanting. It had been difficult and continued to be difficult to discover the spells he should or would have learnt, to be out in the world.

He also missed being able to talk with people, he didn't regret what he told Hedwig. She would be better off with Hermione, he knew had had to disappear off of the Ministry's radar. He'd told Hedwig not to send any letters to him, ever, that not until he came face to face with her. And to consider Hermione her owner until such time. That had been one of his final acts in Hogwarts, and Hedwig had hated him for it. She had been the one really firm and trustworthy element.

"Harry," Karim said with a much more gentle tone in the doorway than his usual tone, breaking into Harry's ponderings.

"Nearly finished Karim," Harry said looking over at the older man.

"It seems that will be your last task for me," he said in a sorrowful tone.

-/

Later in the morning Harry slung a bag over his shoulder, it contained the bag he'd left Hogwarts with and his invisibility cloak. Shrunken within was the tent from Karim's shop backyard, and a second bag full of shrunken items that Karim had said he should look at 'later, when you have time'.

"Maybe I'll come back and visit," Harry said, he was standing on the threshold of the boundary, of Karim's shop's land, he didn't want to or need to apparate. Especially as he didn't know where he was going.

Karim laughed. "Yes! You can meet my children, they can meet the young man who breezed into my life for 6 months and then departed like a spring breeze."

Harry turned and smiled at him. "Thank you, for everything Karim."

"And to you Harry," Karim said with a bow of his head.

Then Harry turned and walked off down the the street, knowing only that he had to get out of the city.

Karim hadn't said anything, perhaps so he wouldn't need to lie if any questions came. He'd never asked him what he was running from, and Harry had never offered anything. It seemed enough for both of them.

Harry did know that the Ministry of Magic didn't hold any sway here, but that wouldn't stop their individual wizards, its aurors coming and throwing their weight around, onto him most likely.

-/

"What's, what's happening? Viktor!" Cedric sat bolt upright, sweat pouring off his brow.

"Mr Diggory," a woman's voice spoke but Cedric couldn't focus, all he could feel was the Cruciatus curse coming over him in waves, he could feel his muscles spasming; twitching against the woman's grip. He didn't remember any women in the graveyard? Maybe there were women Death Eaters, he blinked rapidly trying to look around for his wand as sweat stung his eyes.

"Cedric, Mr Diggory, it's Madame Pomfrey."

The words, the names, they seemed to make sense, he felt a spell wash over him, releasing the locking in his muscles and lowering him back down onto the soft bed. It didn't feel like the rubble of the graveyard, or the rocks and dirt he'd fallen in.

He couldn't taste the mud where his face had been shoved into by an unknown spell. It was warm, calm, clean.

"But Viktor!" He murmured to himself. "Got to get you to the cup…back to Hogwarts….safe," he drifted off, jerking as he did unto unconsciousness.

Poppy released her tight hold on her wand and pulled the blankets back up and looked over to the side of the room. Cedric's father was stood looking pale.

"When he next awakens, he should be more lucid," she said maintaining a calm controlled professional exterior.

But behind that she raged. After the previous years with Potter, facing Voldemort and then everything that occurred last year, she had hoped at least that young man would escape injury.

Her objections against the Tournament had come from well researched position and significant information. But the headmaster and the Ministry had rebuffed her observations and cited texts concerning the damage that could be done to young wizards' bodies and minds in such tournaments. Magic could do so much to help and to heal, but it had its limits.

This…this was criminal, evil. What young Mr Diggory had witnessed, what he had endured, was…a nightmare.

And none of it she could speak about, not outside of this room, only Pomona, the headmaster and Mr Diggory's parents, along with whomever was now in charge at Durmstrang would know the full extent of what had occurred because of the Headmaster and Minister of Magic's decision.

-/

"Dad?" Cedric sat up with a jerk.

"Ced, I'm here," he seemed to fight off the urge to hug him, instead wringing his hands.

Cedric tried to move, but felt everything alive and in pain, forcing him to freeze in his movement.

"Gently son, gently," he said as Madame Pomfrey came over gesturing with her wand he felt himself enveloped in a cushion-like spell, lifting him up into a seated position. A table with a tray floated over settling in front of him.

"Small bites and sips Mr Diggory," she said catching his dad's eye she nodded and walked over to the doors to the infirmary, locking them and then walking to her office.

"Dad, what happened?" He asked weakly.

"You probably know better than I do Cedric, what happened when you touched the cup," his dad asked in a sad tone.

Cedric closed his eyes as he thought back.

It was him and Viktor Krum running towards the cup. He didn't remember who suggested they both take it. Cedric remembered they both said it at the same time. Joint champions, the ultimate in inter-school cooperation.

Then, it was a jumble of thoughts and memories and…the unforgivables flying everywhere.

He and Viktor fought back and then…

"Kill the spare." He remembered that and Viktor being caught in the deathly spell fire.

Then….someone had approached him, stunned him not with a stunning spell but with a blast of the Cruciatus. He had fallen into the ground twitching, smelling the damp earth on his face.

Then…then he didn't remember, flashes, flashes of things, of people, masks and then…

"Lord Voldemort; reborn!" He remembered someone crying that out and he remembered trying to disarm some of the wizards that were present.

And the struggle, levitating and dragging Viktor's body back to the cup and then…

"I remember Moody taking me back to his office, I could barely see…and then…" he jerked. "He started to question me and then…there was more of the…" he trailed off, seeing his father's anguished face.

"The Headmaster finally realised something was amiss," his father said in a bitter tone. "Eat Cedric and I will explain."

Cedric nodded, he felt like his stomach was empty, he remembered after one of the castings of the Cruciatus on him vomiting on himself. He couldn't remember if that was before or after he'd fallen face first into the ground.

The headmaster had realised the cup was a portkey and was dismantling the maze to reach the platform. Before he'd got there Cedric had been taken away by Moody.

The Headmaster had traced Moody and Cedric to his offices, where Moody had been 'interrogating' him. His father didn't elaborate on the interrogation. But Cedric recalled being given water by Moody, but he'd not been able to swallow anything, his body still twitching. It was supposedly Veritaserum. Then Dumbledore, Professor Snape and Professor Sprout had come in and disabled Moody. Who was not Moody, but polyjuiced as him and was someone called Barty Crouch Junior, whom Cedric guessed was the son of Barty Crouch…who was in charge of International Magical Cooperation.

"Does…does that mean his father set all of this up?" Cedric asked as he quickly swallowed a mouthful.

His father shook his head. "I don't know Cedric. The Minister has slapped a Z Notice on all of this."

"Z Notice?" Cedric asked as he swallowed a small amount of pumpkin juice.

"Came about during the muggle's World War II, it's an order preventing the publication or discussion of events for national security," he paused. "I don't know when the Ministry started using the Zero Notices, I guess that shows they work," he said in a sarcastic tone. "Nothing can be said about this concerning Voldemort, the 'potential for panic is too high'. Only you, your mother and I, the Headmaster, Professors; Sprout, McGongall and Snape plus Madame Pomfrey know the full events of what has occurred."

"And Viktor's parents? They should know, know that he fought valiantly, we did, together," Cedric felt his voice cracking as he said so.

His father nodded. "Of course."

Cedric laughed to himself. "Harry was right to escape, I don't want to think, what might've happened if he'd been here, inexperienced…at least Viktor and I had a chance." Then he just felt himself crying, falling into his father's arms, shaking as another wave of pain and convulsions came over his body.

"Madame Pomfrey!" He vaguely heard his father shouting.

Then…then everything eased again and everything went black.

-/

Next when he woken up Madame Pomfrey was waiting with a slightly smoking potion.

"Drink all of if, breathe the vapours too Mr Diggory," she said sternly.

As he finished the odd smelling potion he looked at her. "It's the Cruciatus isn't it?"

She nodded.

"Does my dad know how much, how much it was cast on me?" He asked, his voice tight.

"He knows enough," her face was controlled. "Only you know how much, I can approximate, from your symptoms Mr Diggory," she went silent for a long time.

"Multiple wizards and witches maybe, and Moody or whoever he was, I think," Cedric said in halting tones.

Madame Pomfrey nodded a short nod. "Do you wish me to inform your parents?"

Cedric shook his head. "He knows…enough, I think…." he felt his eyes getting heavy. "I think I need to rest."

-/

'Unmitigated disaster' is what the papers were going to say. At least the Minister had placed a Zero Notice over this whole situation. Few people would be allowed to say the entire truth regarding everything that had occurred.

Enough people that the message could be controlled.

Neither he nor the Minister wished to panic anyone, or alert Voldemort they knew he had been reborn.

Albus leaned back in his chair and sighed. With Harry still missing, and the prophecy still to consider there was only so much he could keep control of.

He had kept the other professors out of his office for now, while he and the Minister had discussed events.

Minister Fudge had only recently departed.

A full statement to the school and the waiting media would be done later.

"Come in," he called as he stepped away from the fire, his office door was almost blasted in by Pomona and Minerva.

"The Cruciatus Headmaster, my student the Cruciatus!"

"Minerva?" Albus asked curiously.

"Pomona wished for me to be here, if Harry hadn't excused himself it would seem he would have been in that graveyard," she looked at him.

In hindsight it had been a mistake to use the Veritaserum that Crouch had intended to use on Cedric on him, with Pomona and Minerva present along with himself and Severus.

They had discovered more than he'd thought.

Chief amongst which Harry had always been intended to arrive in the graveyard, with whom they had not determined.

Albus had left them as his professors digested the information, retreating, hopeful they would not follow to confront while he dealt with everything requiring his attention.

"Fortunately Harry was not, and young Mr Diggory has survived the encounter,' he said calmly.

"That's all you can say?" Pomona sneered at him. "A student has suffered multiple bouts of the Cruciatus, not to mention a variety of physical injuries and another young man is dead! It's despicable," she almost spat at him.

"You are of course correct Pomona, the actions against Mr Diggory are," he agreed.

"And now I hear there's a Z Notice over everything? Scared that if it all comes out-" Pomona continued.

Albus cut her off. "A security matter, the Minister has said, for everyone involved, it will be safer if knowledge is selectively released, edited for the public," he paused. "The horrors that have occurred are not easily stomached by everyone."

Pomona kicked at the floor shaking her head. "I'm going to my student and to explain what I can to my house."

"Remember the Z Notice Pomona," Albus called as his door was slammed shut. He looked to Minerva.

"Harry could have ended up dead in that graveyard Albus, were he in Cedric's place," she commented taking a seat oppose him. "He has fewer skills than Diggory and Krum had."

"Harry is resourceful," he paused and handed a piece of parchment to her. "A report from Ministry aurors investigating possible sighting of Harry in Alexandria, Egypt."

Minerva took the parchment. "And?"

"Customs agents there recognised him, though most could not say who he was working for," Albus stated.

"But he was working?" Minerva asked curiously.

He nodded. "And it seems apparating as well."

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "At such a young age, he has learnt fast."

"He still needs to be recovered from wherever he is Minerva," Albus stated.

"Your stance on that is evident," she commented as she rose. "But yours and the Minister's influence in the Middle East is lacking, and Mr Potter always displayed independence at Hogwarts," she paused in thought. "Is that what made you think he would comply with the contract? Setting out on his own? In the face of high odds," she wondered in a cynical tone watching him for a moment before leaving the room.

-/

Fred and George looked up at the head table. Ron too was watching the Headmaster rise from his chair.

"As you will have gathered there was an incident at the close of the Triwizard Tournament. While ours and the Ministry's investigations are just beginning the Minister has allowed me to share some of the events that befell Mr Diggory and Mr Krum," the headmaster paused. "Messers Diggory and Krum reached the cup together after making their way through the maze. It seems they both decided to claim the cup together as a show of unity," he paused gazing around the room. "But the cup had been spelled as a portkey."

Fred looked to George as they listened to the headmaster explain how the cup had deposited both students in another location where events he couldn't say more about unfolded and Krum was murdered and Cedric tortured.

Through great personal cost Cedric had dragged Krum's body back to the cup, which returned them to the maze.

There Moody, who was actually a wizard who'd kept Moody locked up and used for a polyjuice potion interrogated Cedric more, before he'd been stopped by several of the professors.

Looking to Ron their brother just seemed shocked, unable to understand what he was hearing, like many around the tables.

From what they had heard from some of the other Hufflepuffs Cedric was still in the infirmary. They shared some classes with the 'Puffs and got on well with them, more so than the studious 'Claws and even some in their own house, especially for supporting Harry in his absence for leaving and Hermione _because_ she made the difficult, _honourable_ decision to leave. Something many of their housemates and even their own brother seemed to struggle to understand.

-/

What was described in the letter was shocking, Hermione had let the owl that had delivered the letter eat a little and then depart, if she needed to send a return letter it would be via Hedwig who was asleep on her perch in the conservatory.

With the smaller classes because of the Triwizard at Beauxbatons their teachers had packed more in, which meant earlier exams and a chance to return home earlier.

She'd been a little disappointed, but also felt she needed a break, this school year had been…full.

Now Hermione was shocked at what appeared to have unfolded around the final task.

And potentially, as the twins suggested, what that might have meant for Harry, had he been in Cedric or Viktor's place. It seemed a lot had gone into luring students involved in the tournament, just to be tortured and killed.

"Hermione?" Her dad called as he came in.

"In here dad," she called from the kitchen

"Got a call from your mother, the plane was delayed so she's stuck in Ireland for the evening," he explained and looked at the piece of parchment. "Letter from Hogwarts? Ron…?"

"The twins," she said and explained the gist of the letter to him.

He sat down across from her, a pensive expression on his face. "I feel safer, more assured with you at Beauxbatons, after meeting the deputy head and now this…I'm not sure how Dumbledore's position will be tenable Hermione."

Hermione exhaled. She'd read 'Hogwarts A History' and several other texts surrounding Hogwarts' history and foundation. Very few texts even talked about a headmaster being removed from their position. "There's the Hogwarts board, but everything I've read said they're sort of a…"

"A thorn rather than a sword to the headmaster, I know Hermione," he rose up from the table to look into the conservatory. "Just wish there were more non-magical parents that we could talk about this, how the wizarding world works, how it can include a 14 year old into contract, a tournament where someone _died_ and then there's nothing more said of it."

"It's what they're not saying dad, if they know this much, Cedric must have seen, experienced much more, and whoever was impersonating Moody…" she trailed off in thought.

"And no independent investigations Hermione," her dad said in a mock warning tone.

Hermione laughed. "I've got plenty of study over the holidays to do and French to keep up and practice!"

"Good…" her dad trailed off.

"Dad?" Hermione rose to look at him.

"Just, your friend Harry," he said in thought.

Hermione nodded. "I hope now that the Tournament is over Harry will feel he can come back…but…"

"But?" Her dad prompted.

"Some of the students I was talking to at Beauxbatons, we were talking about this, and wizarding law in Britain and Europe is complicated is putting it nicely."

"I can imagine," he dad pondered.

"Just because the Tournament has ended, it doesn't nullify that Harry escaped the contract, depending on how the Ministry framed it, Harry could still be in breach of the contract. It doesn't matter that he didn't enter into it himself, that question doesn't seem to be asked much I found out," Hermione paused. "I just hope he's somewhere safe."

"He's a resourceful young man, and from what you've said of his relatives, used to keeping himself safe," her dad said in a slightly more angry tone.

-/

Harry Potter meanwhile had left the hustle and bustle of Alexandria, he had with him a notebook of notes he'd made on multiple visits to the library. Notes of places to go, places that travelling mages congregated. Locations where magical animals found themselves.

Dangerous places where muggles died in horrible ways, _unknown_ ways.

He'd known he'd have to have some ideas where to go, ever since Karim had taught him to apparate, since he'd known he'd have to face the possibility that the Ministry or Dumbledore or someone might come looking for him.

'A wizarding contract is binding', it was a phrase that he'd found again and again in huge and heavy law books. Very few seemed to address if you didn't get yourself into a contract what might happen. One did seem to suggest that if the contract ended, but had been broken before the end, it was still broken. That couldn't be undone.

So, he was resigned to the fact that he would have to stay away from England.

Working with Karim, it really had felt like his stay in Diagon Alley, but bigger, a city rather than a few streets to explore.

And no one was looking out for him.

Much like now, and much like when he lived with the Dursleys, no one looking out for him. No one looked out for him at Hogwarts, aside from Hermione no one cared that he didn't put his name in the cup. _He_ didn't care to return.

His destination that he'd settled on was Moghara Lake or oasis, it was the closest in land body of water. He couldn't apparate to it, but he could do several small hops of apparition. Long distance was something you get better at with age, at least he'd gotten beyond line-of-sight.

-/

_A/N: _

_I chose Krum to kill because he's not really known or connected to any of the main characters. It also means I can explore Cedric's character a bit more through this story. _

_Z Notice / Zero Notice I imagine the wizarding equivalent of a D Notice._

_Thanks for reading._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 04**

Cedric sat against the tree listening to the gentle breeze, his hands in the grass feeling the individual leaves and let himself relax.

There wasn't anything to fear here, and he was safe and relaxed.

He almost felt himself smiling as he listened to the breeze.

Then there was a foreign noise suddenly and he twitched, grabbing for his wand.

It was tucked into his pocket, he could use it whenever he wanted. The trace had been removed by the Ministry of Magic, along with his winnings from the Tournament which he'd tried and failed to give to Viktor's parents, who'd been very stoic in their mourning, but eternally grateful for bringing their son's body back to them.

The Ministry had also given him a sizeable sum for the 'stress and heartache' from his participation in the tournament, which he was still forbidden from talking about.

Fred and George had been round to visit, 'a bit too often' his father commented, but his mother said their creativity was inspiring. Cedric had to agree, they were some of the most creative wizards he'd ever met, and they made him laugh, something he'd not done a lot of.

Cho had visited early after Hogwarts had finished, but…he didn't remember really what had happened. She'd tried to kiss him, at least he thought that was what happened, he couldn't remember what had triggered a memory of the graveyard, but something had and…then either he or she had left crying and…then his mother was bringing him some hot cocoa.

Cho had tried coming around a few more times and then…then she'd sent him a letter. He understood why she wouldn't want to be with him, he wasn't sure he would either.

They would both have complicated studies coming up this year, no distractions, he'd said in his letter back to her, they could say that, if she wanted. He didn't want any ill will against her.

After the incidents with Cho his mother and father had organised several different healers to address the…after affects of what had happened. The torture, the…seeing someone die in front of him.

'Just get outside, away from distractions and relax for an hour or two every day, a little meditation without any spells, wand work or anything can help the mind heal' one of the healers had said.

Cedric liked this approach more than the myriad of spells, potions, balms and tinctures others said he should take.

He was sick of them.

At least he no longer needed to take the one to treat the lingering affects of the Cruciatus, its affects had been long lasting. Because, so Madame Pomfrey and the other healers said it was because he was so young…so inexperienced with it being cast on him, and those that had cast it, how proficient they were.

Stretching he threw himself forward and rose up from the ground and walked slowly back to the house; enjoying the summer's breeze.

Back in the house he found a letter awaiting him from Hermione Granger. She, like many others had written a letter of concern and support.

But he found a connection with the younger witch through Harry Potter, he whom Cedric had helped escape. They both shared the concern of what might've befallen Harry had he been in the tournament. Harry had had enough terrors in his life.

She was also an intelligent witch, with whom he found an interest in corresponding, especially with her departure part way through last year from Hogwarts it presented an interesting insight.

He'd passed on her parents' wishes to 'connect' with other parents who had magical children or those witches and wizards who lived within the muggle world more so than the magical one to his mother. She worked around the Ministry concerning trade and transport and she had several contacts and associations that had assisted Hermione's parents, much to her praise.

Unsurprisingly it was with his parents that Hermione's parents connected first, despite his family lacking much muggle connections. Her parents only interaction had been with the Weasleys, and Arthur Weasley's 'fascination' with muggles and muggle technology had been somewhat confronting to Hermione's muggle parents.

Opening the letter he sat down into a chair, turning on the wireless as he did, he liked to listen, especially as it had recently received a significant donation to its fact finding and news reporting division from an anonymous patron of the truth.

Reading through the letter he smiled, Hermione had accepted his parents' offer to stay a few days while her parents were going off together for some sort of education and conference meeting with other professionals in their dentistry field.

-/

Hermione packed up bag, her mum had been a little unsure at first with her friendship with Cedric, especially following what he'd experienced during the Tournament. But they had each developed a friendship, beginning with Harry.

He'd not so much admitted, but certainly implied that Harry had come to him, fearful of his life about the tournament and that he may have assisted.

They had both agreed not to push or discuss it further, she'd done some additional reading into the contract and what Harry seemingly likely was still a part of, despite not being in Britain. That seemed evident from the Ministry's Contain & Capture posters a 'death warrant' so said most of the people who talked about it on the wizarding wireless, the Daily Prophet vacillated between calling him a fugitive and a criminal. They couldn't call Sirius that any more, he was out and about, pardoned and all. Advocating for other people who's been falsely accused and sentenced without a trial and for rights of werewolves.

Strangely the Ministry of Magic seemed to support him with the latter issue, it seemed out of sorts for the Ministry.

In searching for other people who knew about magic and the muggle world her parents had found an odd casual friendship with Cedric's parents, despite them being fully magical, it made it easier, she thought that Mr Diggory didn't want to probe her father on 'elktricity' and what a 'rubber duck' did.

Her parents didn't want their house connected to the floo, but she had found a small tea house that was run by a magical couple only a short bus ride where they had a floo for use.

But today she'd be going with her parents in the car and then on the way they'd be stopping off at a pub that had a wizarding section with a floo that was supposedly free if you were buying a meal (local connections only). Hermione knew her parents just wanted to spend some time with her when she wasn't studying, practising her French or off fetching more books.

Cedric helped with the French as well, his father seemed to think it was a good idea to improve on his language skills. Especially after the Tournament and what happened under the Ministry's purview. Cedric had implied to her that his father was looking into moving into the 'private sector' away from the Ministry. She wasn't sure what that meant, from what she'd learnt at Hogwarts before she'd left, the Ministry was one of the biggest employers in the wizarding world. If you ran a separate business it was a retail one, not one of skills, or if it was you were a Professor or something.

But that was something she didn't need to worry about, so said her mum and dad, getting too ahead of thoughts of the future. 'Enjoy being a teenager', her mum teased. There wasn't anything dangerous lurking out there.

Not like every year at Hogwarts…

-/

Albus Dumbledore took the wax cylinder out of its cardboard tube and slipped in onto the player. It was a relatively new method of distribution for the wizarding media, and certainly a new method for the wizarding news network to be distributing 'long form discussions' to people who were outside of its area or wished to archive and listen back to items.

He wasn't sure where they had got a benefactor from, but they were slowly becoming a challenger to the Daily Prophet's almost monopoly on news.

He wound the handle a few times and placed the needle down gently on the cylinder.

_Welcome, listener to a recording taken from Journeys with Magi, discussions with wizards, witches, squibs and magically-connected muggles. This recording features Sirius Black. _

Albus leaned back in his chair as some music was played and listened.

"You've been doing a lot of work advocating for under represented wizards and witches Lord Black," the interviewer was saying. "You weren't tempted to -"

"Have a life of party and pleasure?" Sirius asked with a laugh.

"After your incarceration it would have been understandable."

"No," he paused. "It took a lot for me to get to this point, and I've lost a lot. I'll still have a good time, if I want to, but I'm not as young as I was," his voice descended into a bitter tone. "And I want to make sure other people haven't fallen into that hole."

"Your advocacy for werewolves is surprising," the interviewer paused, seemingly waiting for Sirius to break in, but didn't. "Given your family's history," another pause. "and interesting to see the Ministry supporting you."

"My family's history is just that, _their history_, in Azkaban and my time outside the law away from it I saw the very lowest of our society, and it gave me perspective," he paused. "The Ministry's support has been surprising I admit, but Minister Fudge and his Ministers have said these people are wizards, while afflicted they are still part of our society. With wolfsbane and associated recovery potions that St Mungo's is making available, along with removing the discriminatory practices we hope we'll be able to help witches and wizards alike," Sirius spoke calmly, yet forcefully.

"It's surprising, hearing you speak of the Ministry in such friendly terms given how they treated you and your godson, Albus Dumbledore had a hand in both these issues did he not?"

Albus leaned forward, even though he could heard perfectly fine.

"Albus Dumbledore pushed for my pardon, so I won't say anything against him on that regard," Sirius said simply.

"And your godson Harry Potter, the capture and control warrant is still active against him despite the end of the Triwizard Tournament," the interviewer commented.

"I can't say, as I wasn't present for the Tournament or Harry's involvement with it," Sirius answered diplomatically.

"Do you have any thoughts on where your godson may be?" The interviewer pressed.

"I hope Harry is keeping well, and I urge him to get in contact with myself or someone associated with me," Sirius said, his voice getting slightly louder, as though he was in the room with Albus.

"And to return? Even though he would face Ministry prosecution?" The interviewer pressed again.

"I couldn't comment on the Ministry's prosecution of the Tournament's contract. As I understand it, it was between those who participated, the Ministry and the host school," Sirius answered carefully.

"But If you had to-" the interviewer pressed.

"I won't, as I've said, I'm focusing on my advocacy for those imprisoned without trial or having being bitten, neither a crime under many European magical governments," Sirius said cutting off the interviewer.

Lounging out of his chair Albus walked over and turned off the player, removing the wax cylinder and returning it to its sleeve.

It had been his suggestion in the ear of the Minister regarding the werewolves. With Voldemort resurrected, at some point there would be a conflict and it was without a doubt he would begin recruiting.

Sirius advocating for werewolves was unexpected, but given his friendship with Remus it was understandable.

It certainly meant the Hogwarts board was further placated given his hiring of Remus for several years as DADA professor. The additional funds from the Ministry would also be beneficial, while the wolfsbane ingredients did not take out much from Hogwarts' store of potion ingredients Severus did complain, the additional funds would placate him.

Sirius' sincere message to Harry was of some concern, as it suggested he had had no luck in locating him.

Albus hoped that something would turn up, for now he had his own researches to pursue connected to Voldemort's survival and how he was resurrected.

-/

Hermione frowned at the chess board as she made her move and then picked up a card from the trivia stack.

It was a 'game' Cedric said he's read about, a mix of chess and trivia, except they had to answer in French and their thinking time counted against their chess clock.

Chess was always Ron and Harry's forte, not hers.

She made her move, not the best, but she wanted more thinking time with the trivia.

Their games lasted no more than 10 minutes as they both made multiple mistakes with the chess and the trivia.

"I've got something different for the afternoon," Cedric said as he guided her to the dining room where lunch had been laid on by their house elf.

"Different how?" Hermione asked, she'd only been here for a day and a bit.

"Fred and George, we're going to teach you how to ride a broom," Cedric explained with a smile.

Hermione sat down with a thump and shook her head. "Oh no, I've told you, I didn't like it at Hogwarts, it's not for me Cedric!" She exclaimed.

Cedric just shook his head. "Everyone needs to know how to ride a broom, just as you've got to know how to apparate."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I could just hide in your lovely library, your mum and dad said I'm welcome to it," she pointed out.

"Come on, wouldn't you like to go back to Beauxbatons with a new skill? Surprise Fleur and the others?" Cedric asked.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I've got nothing to prove, I've been fitting in well."

Cedric thought for a second. "Prove that you learnt something better than they taught at Hogwarts, something Hogwarts has prided itself on for decades."

Hermione poured herself some pumpkin juice, and was silent in thought.

"I've already invited them," Cedric began "or you can just sit and watch us play off against one another."

"I am **not** going to do that Cedric Diggory," she said firmly.

He just grinned at her, happy to have won.

-/

Fred looked around for his younger brother; Ron had been moping around for most of the time since Hogwarts had ended.

George had suggested they take him with them when they went over to Cedric's, considering Hermione was going to be there.

But it looked like Ron had gone out with dad.

"Ready?" George asked, he had his broom slung over his shoulder.

Fred nodded, they'd not told mum that Hermione was going to be there. That would just get her irritable. That Hermione had 'decided to up and leave without any say to the Headmaster or anyone else' got her in a rant.

"Mum we're off to Cedric's!" Fred called out as they made their way to the fire.

"Alright love, be nice to him especially…" she trailed off.

Fred nodded to his brother as they gathered the floo powder. Cedric hadn't really elaborated much on what had happened. They couldn't really imagine seeing someone die, be killed in front of them.

-/

"Don't say it Hermione, just will it, think of it as like a wand," Fred tried, he was sitting on his broom with practiced ease. Cedric was off by the trees, he'd said he was just clearing his head when a noise off in the distance had made him jump. The three of them hadn't questioned it, they all knew that it hadn't 'made him jump', but had been something worse.

Hermione wanted to comment something about _Star Wars_ but knew it was a cultural reference that neither wizard would understand.

"Just think, of reaching down and grabbing the broom Hermione," George said calmly, "reach down with your hand, as though you're just going to grab it,"

Hermione bent down without looking at it and felt it leap, just a little off the ground into her hand.

The twins applauded.

-/

Later, Hermione was off the ground, albeit with Cedric and Fred flying beside her and George flying backwards coaching her on broom technique.

They weren't far off the ground; enough to be hidden by the fruit trees that were in the grove on the edge of the Diggory's property. But far enough that it would hurt it she fell.

A strong breeze came through and she held the broom tighter.

"Don't worry, the breeze isn't going to hurt you," Cedric reassured.

"Just feel it, lean into it if you're worried," Fred continued calmly.

"But watch, eyes ahead, not on the broom," George said in a less calm, more firm tone.

-/

Further away just outside the house Amos handed the omnioculars to his wife.

"Ced's doing well, good to see him back on a broom," he said with some relief.

"Hermione's doing well, for someone who hated the broom studies at Hogwarts," she commented handing them back to her husband.

"And she's been the perfect guest so far, it's good for Ced, and us, good to have some other friends," Amos admitted. "Maven you were right."

Maven laughed. "Of course. Cedric's not going to pounce on her, and Hermione's not that sort of girl. And I agree, it's nice to know people outside our circle of friends, especially ones with an insight into the muggle world, not from a book….or the Ministry."

Amos frowned, every time the Ministry was mentioned he thought of what happened to Ced and the Z Notice that had been enacted. He'd thought of ways of breaking it, but not without losing his job over it. The _Prophet_ hadn't said much, but the wizarding wireless had, since they'd recently been given a sizeable donation. He suspected where that had come from and whom. But the winnings from the cup were Cedric's to do as he wished.

"Come on Amos, let's stop spying on our son and his friends, we'll get some afternoon tea sorted, they're usually hungry, especially if they're teaching Hermione.:'

Amos nodded dropping the omnioculars from his eyes. "Yes, it's good to see him happy, relaxed, that's enough Maven," his wife looked back. "I know, now that I've finally realised that."

His wife just laughed as he followed her into the house.

—/ — \\\—

Harry Potter meanwhile was in a town for the first time in a few weeks. He'd spent the time after leaving Alexandria and visiting the Moghara Lake crossing back towards the Nile and the surrounding areas.

The larger cities and towns along the Nile were…somewhat more intimidating than the smaller towns and the basic settlements further into the continent's interior. He felt more able to use what small amount of skills he had to help his financial situation.

There weren't so much major wizarding locations, but there were places to look, where someone who knew how to brew a few simple potions was in demand.

Out in the desert, he felt better able to identify them, in the cities it felt like there was too much noise, both literal and…not so.

He wasn't sure, but he felt like he'd probably missed the start of school, back to Hogwarts.

Not that he really felt like he could return there. He still thought about it. Sometimes, waking up in the morning, he did, and when he went to sleep. Wandering about…the normal things that he'd done.

But then, he felt his mind taking him back to looking to his friend Ron and the…the disgust and annoyance that played over his features when his name, when he'd heard "Harry Potter" as his name had come out of the cup, the sudden fear, worry and angst at it, and looking to his friend for help and reassurance and only seen that disgust and annoyance on Ron's face, directed at him.

It had _hurt_.

He tried not to replay those thoughts.

He sometimes thought maybe he could call Hermione, she'd given him her parent's phone number after the Chamber of Secrets incident, made him remember it, just in case.

But he wasn't sure what he'd say, or needed to say. After all she wouldn't be able to do anything. Sirius couldn't, not with him being on the run.

It was better, just to be away from it all, away from everything.

He preferred it, no one knowing who he was, just some odd English person with exceptionally bad Arabic.

Farafra was sizeable and had a lot of irrigation nearby, greening the desert. It also made the bazaar he was in much more resplendent with foods than he'd been used to encountering.

He'd found some things in his wanderings and apparition that he could trade.

But he wasn't rolling in cash. The Dursleys had always made sure he had nothing, and then going to Hogwarts and finding Diagon and finding he had a bank account full of money…it had all been a little overwhelming.

Amos Diggory and Hubert had (the former suggested) the latter said that he would need to start with nothing. It was something he didn't mind, and leaving Karim and Alexandra he'd left with not much again.

Wandering around he caught a whiff of smoke, not the conventional stuff from a hookah, but something else. It was a sharp sweet smell with a harsh edge like liquorice. He recognised it as being something magical, or related at least. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew it was not-muggle.

Following his nose he found himself wandering along a side path and then found more people selling small bags and wrapped portions of their wares. He never expected to see huge amounts of witches or wizards selling their wares, but there were always a small amount.

Looking around there didn't appear to be many people here, and no one tried to catch his eye.

He at least cast less of an obvious foreigner shadow with a hat on his head, affixed to the bun he'd pulled his hair into to keep it flying off in the wind. To most he hoped he just looked like a traveller.

There were various potion ingredients, wizarding technology and other things.

Some books, which he had a flip through, most in Arabic or French, none in English. His spoken Arabic somewhat better than written. He knew he had to improve both, or go somewhere that spoken English, and given any of those places' connection to Britain it looked like he'd need to improve reading Arabic.

Poking around another seller's massed group of a random selection of items he saw they also had some potion ingredients, all seemingly randomly thrown about.

The prices were cheap, _really_ cheap. They had constituent parts to make a bone regrowing potion, pepper up and maybe even wolfsbane along with half a dozen others he had jotted down in a notebook from when he'd worked with Karim. The ingredients were far too cheap though. Running his fingers through them they seemed good, at least from what he'd learnt with Karim. They were wrapped up in old newspaper.

Looking around he saw an older man at the back of the market stall and approached.

His Arabic wasn't amazing but he tried to tell him that he wasn't interested in buying, but for the quality of the ingredients he could be charging more.

He looked puzzled for a moment and asked "You are a potions expert?" Which probably wasn't what he said, but Harry assumed that was the gist he nodded.

"You can make with these?"

Harry shrugged a little, unsure.

Then the man disappeared, he didn't apparate, he just got up and came back with someone younger. Who could speak a little English.

Harry gathered it was his accent that gave him away.

The younger man explained his grandfather said that if Harry made some potions for their family he could keep the excess ingredients.

"You don't know what I can make," Harry started to protest.

"You know enough, to be honest to say these are expensive and worth more, that is enough," the younger man explained.

-/

Harry discovered, with something of a jolt as he was surrounded by the scrunched up potions ingredients that some of the newspaper was the Daily Prophet.

As he organised the ingredients he smoothed out a page, only to find a photo of himself in the corner of one of the pages.

'Harry Potter, by order of the Ministry of Magic, capture or contain' It looked like they'd used a Quidditch photo.

It looked and sounded like a death warrant 'capture or contain' sounded like 'dead or alive'. Looking at the date it definitely was after Hogwarts finished, he remembered that date well because it signalled a return to the Dursleys.

He was tempted to keep the wanted poster, but decided he'd use it to start the fires he'd need.

-/

Hours later and three potions in the three cauldrons Karim had given him were on the heat Harry had a few pages of the _Prophet_ he could look through.

He'd drawn a circle around where he was sat, which was out the back of where the family were camped. He'd gone and asked them what they needed, but hadn't got very far with that.

He'd settled on a basic bone regrowing potion that he hoped would help restore, though not entirely regrow bones, much simpler than Skelegrow and a two cauldrons of Pepper Up, or something close.

The circle would keep anyone curious out of the way, or at least that's what he'd shouted when some more curious tried to cross it.

Someone did say that after sunset he was invited for food.

But for now he had almost a complete Daily Prophet from two weeks ago to read.

Most of it was fluff, but there was mention of 'the death' at the Triwizard, which did fill him with angst, but Cedric was mentioned as the winner, but it didn't say who had died.

Harry unfolded the wanted poster again, he'd decided not to use it as a fire lighter, not immediately, though he had decided to burn it now. Now that he'd memorised all of it.

Apparently he was now a fugitive of the British Ministry of Magic, and anyone who saw him was to report him to associated Ministries. Which supported what Hubert and Amos had indicated, that he would need to be well away from Britain and its allies or anywhere with ties to them.

Capture and Contain still sounded a lot like a death warrant rather than the Ministry actually wanting him captured. After them sending Dementors to Hogwarts after Sirius he didn't really expect much less from them with him. Even if it was just about a contract and a game.

But…there was Cedric's expression when he'd said he wanted to escape, a mixture of shock and surprise…and something else, maybe it was the something else that Cedric had been worried about. Or that Amos Diggory had been worried about.

Slipping the piece of paper near the fire it fizzed as the ink burnt into the flames. As it turned to ash he considered the fine print that had been smudged by being scrunched up, he'd missed it on first reading. 'Ministry warrant endorsed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and Ronald Bilius Weasley. He was glad that it was only those two names, but that Ron's name was on there still hurt, and Dumbledore's felt like an extra twist of the knife, that he'd refused to help and now endorsed the warrant against him.

-/

The people he was making the potions for had got him phials, he didn't know from where. They were all different sizes, but they had understood, despite him not knowing the word for phial, the closest he was able to get was 'glass container for potions'. When they'd brought it they'd held them up and told him different words for the different containers with a smile and nods.

-/

The following morning Harry woke up to the sound of animals making their morning noises and rolled over to look at all the potions he'd filled up the previous night. The next thing he was dreading, and that was tasting them.

Karim had said in showing him how to 'cheat' potions that substitutions could be made, making potions less effective also lowered the price drastically. 'Some people will pay much for proper ones, but close is just as good for most, but there is caution young Harry' he'd said 'you'll know if you've had these before if it is right, even if it is cheated'.

Dipping his finger into one of the larger pots of the bone regrowing potion he squinted and resisted the urge to spit it out. It took him back to…not last year, the year before after Lockhart had bungled his spell, it tasted a little sharper and a bit more…like he wanted to gag. But not _wrong_. He'd soon know if he'd got it wrong the gagging would begin.

He sat and waited for 10 minutes, drinking some water as he did, when nothing happened he tried the PepperUp.

This he knew he'd gotten right, if anything it was a little more powerful than what he was used to.

He put them both down as a success and gave himself a pat on the back for not killing himself.

-/

Later in the morning Harry walked out of the town, potion ingredients in his bag, along with food under a preservation charm and most importantly a skill he had asked of them, he had watched the people, a family or some sort of group that he'd found himself with, during the previous night's meal and closing out of it, he'd watched them tidy up, using their wands, mostly wordlessly. But what he'd made note of was the amount of expanding bags that they had.

Cushions came out of them, firewood, dishes went in.

He'd asked as he was preparing the potions to give them and instructions if they could show him how to create them.

The eldest had laughed, drawing his wand and then gathering one of the others who spoke some English to explain the wand movements. The incantations 'do not matter' just the intent.

They had made him practice on some small scraps of fabric, and he'd managed to double its size, but nothing more.

'Practice', they'd said simply.

Harry intended to, he didn't have anything more to do than continue to wander, and also wonder, on what had happened in Britain.

_A/N: _

_Wax cylinder seemed like the best analogue to podcasts for the wizarding world._

_Thanks for reading._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 05**

Sirius met Dumbledore at the rear of Privet Drive so as not to undo all the careful memory modification that the Ministry had already done to the street's inhabitants.

"Dementors Albus," Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Indeed Sirius, indeed, it is…" the older man trailed off gesturing towards the back entrance of the house. "Arabella discovered them," he said as they went in.

Sirius grimaced, there was a smell of rotting food in the kitchen. It would've been much worse, had the bodies not been cleared away.

"She was still monitoring them, even without Harry?" He asked and the looked to the headmaster. "Or in case he returned?"

"They are…were his relatives," he answered softly.

"Relatives he hated being with, I doubt Harry would even try to contact them," Sirius said as he illuminated the room with his wand.

"You've had no luck contacting Harry?" Albus asked.

Sirius shook his head. "The globe is a big place, I should know, I spent enough time away and around it," he said as he walked over to the cupboard under the stairs.

"Harry was moved into the small bedroom upstairs, all of his things he had at Hogwarts," Albus called from the other room.

That his godson had been forced to live in the cupboard under the stairs was something he had learnt late, too late to do anything but get angry. Harry certainly hadn't told him.

Early after the pardon he'd needed to be an upstanding member of society, seeking out to punish Harry's relations wouldn't have looked good.

Going upstairs he found the bedroom, the door with a large foot-sized hole in it, and the room had bars on the windows.

"What will happen to the house?" He asked, sensing Albus' presence in the doorway.

"Vernon's sister, is the beneficiary in his will, Petunia does not have one it seems," Albus said in a solemn tone.

"Has the Ministry explained _how_ they got out?" Sirius asked as they went back down the stairs.

"No, but he is following my advice and your suggestions to remove them from Azkaban and other locations, considering the Voldemort threat," Albus explained as he gestured around with his wand.

"Good," he had been commenting in the media and to those in the Ministry that would listen to him that the International Confederation of Wizards had all but abandoned the use of Dementors in Europe. Britain had staunchly powered on with their use of them, despite their status as a 'cruel and unusual method of torture'.

Even those with blood purist leanings did not support their use. Not really.

"Will you wish to be informed when the funeral is?" Albus asked as they went outside.

Sirius paused as he closed up the door, locking it with ease. Petunia was Lily's sister, and had been murdered by Dementors.

But she'd also kept the only son of her sister in a cupboard under the stairs for 11 years.

He shook his head. "For what she did to Harry she doesn't deserve anything," he paused. "For leaving Harry with them, I don't forgive that either Albus," he said meeting the older man's gaze.

"The protections here-" He began.

"Failed them," Sirius cut in.

Albus nodded without speaking until they were in the back garden. "What of my proposal?"

"Grimmauld Place?" Sirius snorted. "Have it Albus, if you wish to have a secret location for the Order, you can have that place, I won't be going back in." He had gone in when he'd been pardoned. Kreacher was dead, rotting in a corner. He'd gathered up the remains of the library which had been partially destroyed by burst water pipes. His mother still screamed from her portrait, he'd tried setting that on fire. "There's nothing there but a lot of cleaning," he paused. "I'm not giving it to you though Albus, it remains Black property."

"Of course Sirius of course, I would not ask you to," Albus said, but seemed relieved.

-/

Hermione gently brought the broom up to a height where she was far enough off the ground to be worried, that is if she fell.

Cedric was watching calmly from far enough away that if she fell he wouldn't be able to catch her.

Fred was holding a quaffle, George was apparently trying to get Ron to come and visit, with Mr and Mrs Diggory's permission of course. She had explained to them that she wasn't sure if she felt comfortable visiting the Weasley house, especially given what Fred and George had been saying about what their mother had said about her, and Harry.

They'd given their assent for them to meet out where they were, but not in their house 'some standards need to be maintained, especially what Mrs Weasley's said of you Hermione, and Ced' Mr Diggory had said.

She wanted to hear from Ron why he endorsed the warrant, why he continued to stand opposed to Harry.

"Okay Hermione?" Fred asked breaking her from her thoughts.

"Grip with thighs and think, while catching?" She asked, cursing the two older boys before her as she returned to the task at hand.

Although if she was honest, these last couple of days had been some of the happiest, just living with people and experiencing wizarding living without being put to work every day. Not that she'd minded at the Weasleys…it was just at the Diggorys she felt a bit more relaxed, they also had a glorious library to explore, supposedly from Mrs Diggory's side of the family. And there was also the fact that her parents got on well with them, and in less of a…less of the way Mr Weasley in his over friendly way interrogated her parents every time they met. Mum and dad said they liked the Diggorys as adult friends rather than as acquaintances of their children.

Then, as she was thinking on these she realised a quaffle was coming towards her and she didn't think, she reached out and grabbed it. The force of the catch pushing her back in the air slightly as she moved and shifted her weight. A moment she shouted with amazement and threw it back to Fred.

"There, you see Hermione, nothing to worry about," Cedric congratulated as he beamed at her.

"Now you need to master moving," Fred paused as Hermione opened her mouth. "At speed."

-/

George found Ron outside sulking and kicking gnomes around the garden.

"You've been seeing her, behind my back!" He shouted over his shoulder but didn't turn from his gnome kicking.

George stared at his brother's back. "You what Ron?"

"Hermione! You and George you've been seeing her behind my back!" He spat spinning around to look at him.

"She's been staying with the Diggorys for the last few days Ron, you were out with dad when we first went round," George explained calmly.

"She's been seeing Cedric as well?" Ron wrinkled his nose up. "Why?"

George breathed in, both he and Fred had decided not to challenge Ron on his endorsement of the warrant. Mum had been pleased he'd done it. Dad had explained why Ron had been asked. They hated all of it, but their little brother was still their little brother. They had to try to help. Ginny had taken a different path, pretending that Ron and mum didn't exist and seemed to spend as much time as she could away from the Burrow with her friends. That method did seem to hold some appeal as George looked to his youngest brother.

Ron took his silence and breathing as a signal of something. "You know something don't you? About Hermione and Cedric? Cho not enough for him he has to go after-"

"After what? Cedric probably wanted someone to talk to, someone who understood something of the Tournament and someone who knew the danger's too great," George gave his younger brother a look.

Ron screwed up his face again. "Harry left of his own accord George! He abandoned the school, and us."

"We didn't abandon him when he said his name didn't go into the cup," George tried. "What if it'd been your name? Wouldn't you'd have thought something was up?"

Ron clenched his fists. "I'd have done it, not run away."

"Even after what happened with Cedric?" George shook his head.

Ron didn't say anything.

"Fine Ron," George said giving up. "I'll tell her you said hi," George walked away to get his broom.

-/

Hermione could feel the breeze in her hair as she flew around in a circle. If she was honest the tight turn was making her feel a bit giddy, and she doubted she'd ever play Quidditch.

But she understood the passion the players had for flying now. There was something…something magical about the motion, the movement.

Then someone was flying next to her.

"George is here, maybe we should have some lunch," Cedric said looking up at the sky. The sun was still out but there were some clouds on the horizon.

Hermione nodded, licking her chapped lips as she followed Cedric down the ground.

She couldn't quite pull off the dismount and run that Fred and Cedric managed, she had to slow to a hover and then step off.

"He didn't want to come Hermione, sorry," George said as Cedric gathered her broom.

She couldn't hide her disappointment. Both Fred and George took her arm in friendly way to console her.

"You've got two other Weasley brothers here, and a dashing Diggory," George said nodding towards Cedric who turned back and beamed as he headed towards a picnic blanket their house elf had set up for them.

"Why?" She asked the two brothers.

George sighed.

"He's not still saying we went behind his back to see you?" Fred asked.

Hermione slumped a little, he'd said that in one of the few letters he'd replied to, as well as saying that she shouldn't be using Hedwig. She'd had half a mind to tell Hedwig to bite him next time.

"Come on, let's enjoy ourselves and not worry about our dear jealous brother," George said breaking away from Hermione.

"And enjoy a delicious lunch our mate Cedric's done up for us." Fred added.

"Mum's doing turnip and pumpkin soup tonight," George wrinkled his nose. "So we can have a bit more if Hermione's not hungry."

"After all that flying!" She shook her head. "Of course I am, now I've found my land legs again."

"Good, because there's plenty packed in here," Cedric said as he handed her a glass of chilled grapefruit juice.

Hermione sighed. "Because we were expecting Ron," she turned to look at the path that Fred and George took to get to the Diggorys' field, the floo being easier, but Ron would have needed to fly or walk had he visited.

"He'd just've moped, brought the vibe down Hermione," George tried.

Hermione sighed. "Fine, I won't let him pull the 'vibe' down," Hermione commented as she raised her glass. "To Cedric and of course George and Fred, for teaching a witch to fly," Hermione laughed as they all raised their glasses in laughter.

-/

Harry Potter collapsed onto the rocks and tried not to cry, he failed, he was hyperventilating and crying as he tried to banish the blood off himself.

There wasn't even sand, there was just hard rocks and the faintest wisp of sand below them.

Staring up at the sky his hair matted with sweat and other things, he tried to control his shaking hands enough to pull off his damaged glasses and repair them; replacing them on his nose with a still shaky hand.

He'd broken one of his rules.

It was shortly after sunset, he was fairly sure he was still in Egypt, he was looking for the Nile, or even any water source.

He'd slowly been trying to hone his ability to apparate, focusing, _feeling_ his way through each apparition process. But he was mostly limiting himself to as far as he could see.

But he'd not been able to find anywhere good to stop, nowhere that he'd been able to find any water, nowhere that might present somewhere to trade his potion ingredients or skills, such as they were.

So he'd found himself a road, more of a track and begun walking along it, apparating every mile or so, but seemingly not getting anywhere.

Then night had fallen. The moon was more or less out, but there were no lights on the horizon, and no where he felt like he wanted to stop.

Maybe that should have been an indication to him that something was going to happen, that he didn't set up his tent immediately and get away from the road, that sense of foreboding.

Then he saw a pickup truck driving out of the darkness its light dazzling him for a moment. He moved further off the side of the road as it drove past, its driver didn't seem to pay him any heed.

Then, maybe an hour later he heard a vehicle coming back along the road.

As he was turning around to look…something connected with his lower back. Something hard, making him collapse into the dirt.

Then he heard the voices, male voices coming up and feet, boots connecting with his stomach, and hands trying to get at his bag. There wasn't anything he was protective of in there. His invisibility cloak was inside a small expandable bag he'd created for himself; stuffed into his trouser pocket.

But then there were more hands and feet connecting; a fist to his face and more feet into his stomach and chest.

Somehow they missed his face and glasses.

Harry didn't know when he opened his eyes, as they pulled back, one of them, hidden by the glare of the lights moved forward and started to repeatedly punch him in the stomach.

Harry tried to speak but tasted blood in his mouth and was winded with every punch.

He just had to….punch.

Just had to….punch…

Just had to get away….punch.

He'd disapparated with a loud, wet plop.

When he came to; lying prostrate on some hard rocks he was covered in blood.

Some of it related to the balled fist of his attacker.

He didn't know where the rest of him was.

-/

Harry woke, curled in a foetal position with the sun above his head, and a hand beside him.

It wasn't his, nor was it connected to any body.

He dry retched, remembering what had happened the previous night. All of his body was in agony as he pulled himself up and looked at the hand again as he turned away, limping until he could find somewhere less covered in rocks to set up his tent to rest properly.

He'd found a bottle of water in the bottom of his bag. _The_ bottle that he'd bought when he'd first arrived. Its plastic was dented and crumbled in places, it was the cheapest plastic bottle of water he could buy. He had several others now, aluminium ones, all dented, all cheaply bought at markets. All empty.

The water tasted stale, but it quenched his thirst nonetheless.

He found some dried fruits throughout his bag in various bags and other things. It was only after he'd made the effort to set up his tent and go through his bag that he felt able, once he'd run out of things to do, to check over his body.

Bruises were all over him, there were cuts on his hands, arms and his face felt tender all over.

It reminded him of Dudley and his 'gang' when they'd decided their rule needed enforcing.

At Hogwarts, even the injuries he'd suffered at the end of years from Quirrell, Riddle's ghost and everything in the shack had been miraculously healed by Madame Pomfrey.

He could probably make something with the ingredients he had at hand to speed the healing.

Instead he sipped a tiny amount of a PepperUp potion he had, just enough to warm up his body and speed the healing process.

He wouldn't do anything till later in the day.

It was the first time in a long time since he'd felt fear and terror, really, real fear and terror for his life.

And a man had lost his hand because he'd panicked.

Although he was attacking him, for no reason.

—/ — \\\—

Robert Granger sat with a notebook open, it was an interesting possibility presented by some of the people that Amos and Maven had introduced them to at a dinner party. Somehow they'd gotten onto the topic of doctors and healers and someone had mentioned how they needed to go to a healer to remove a 'troublesome tooth', which would need to be regrown, but he was facing the possibility of multiple potions to regrow gums that would have to be 'banished' as a result.

Maven had given him a meaningful look and he'd introduced himself as a dentist.

Then the following day himself and Jane had been in Amos and Maven's sun room performing dentistry.

They'd successfully saved the wizard's tooth; its state a combination of poor hygiene and decay. He'd had to employ techniques he'd learnt very early in his career, both himself and Jane unsure how their dental curing wand for the composite glue would work around magic.

Now, because of that both he and Jane had a potential new source of income.

With a lot of challenges.

He'd talked to Hermione about it as he'd driven her down to Ramsgate where a large boat chartered by Beauxbatons took students who resided in Britain across the Channel to France for the new school year. They could of course make their way to France and travel from various locations around the country. According the Hermione the actual port changed with each year according to how the student population in Britain was laid out. She'd been reading the equivalent of _Hogwarts: A History_ for her new school.

She'd not quite said, but had said that she was glad that he and Jane had found a connection in the wizarding world, not just through her.

It was nice to not be constantly prodded for answers about weird trivial questions that he was sure Arthur Weasley could have discovered visiting his local library, and then when he'd given him an answer the man would often correct him on something weird like the functioning of a lemon squeezer.

At the top of his notebook he'd been writing down the problems with doing dentistry on wizards.

Mostly that it involved doing home visits as Amos pointed out that a wizard or witch wouldn't go to a muggle surgery, not if they could absolutely avoid it. Maven had said that he could charge a high price for his skills.

The money from that first occasion was sizeable.

Wizards and witches apparently valued skill and knowledge, and paid highly for it.

He wasn't sure how he'd do an x-ray without the machine mounted in their dental surgery.

Then the phone rang, making him jump.

"Hello?"

There was a scratchy noise on the other end. "_Do you accept an international reverse charge call from" _there was a pause "_Umm…Harry Potter_."

His voice sounded harsh, he'd only met the boy a couple of times. "Yes, I accept," there was a clunk of something and then he waited.

"_Uh, hello?"_

"Harry Potter, it's Robert, Hermione's dad," he spoke calmly.

"_Oh, is um, Hermione_"

"She's at school, just dropped her off," he said.

"_Oh, that's okay, I…_" the young man sounded deflated, more than tired.

"Are you alright Harry, Hermione told us about everything, are you alright?"

The young teen laughed. "_Just wanted to hear a friendly voice, just had a bad…_" There was an edge to his voice however.

Robert thought quickly to himself. "What about your godfather, I can owl Sirius Black if you'll tell me where you are?" Robert glanced over to the conservatory, Hedwig was on her perch, rather than have Hermione travel with Hedwig and Crookshanks he'd send the owl in a few days, although Hermione had said she could rely on the academy's avian post until her mother or he needed to contact her.

"_Sirius, but he's…" _Harry began.

"Pardoned," Robert cut him off "I don't know the specifics Harry, but I can owl him, if you'd like. I can send her now."

_"I'm not sure…."_ Harry began _"I don't want to stay too long here."_

Robert looked to the owl who was looking back at him. "I'll send Hedwig now, call back in 3 hours."

Harry exhaled. _"Okay. 3 hours."_

Then the line went dead.

Robert walked quickly to his study as his wife came down the stairs.

"Who was that?"

"Harry Potter," he said as he explained his phone call to his worried wife.

Back in the kitchen he wrote a quick letter to Sirius Black. He'd not spoken or even met him, but knew who he was, he'd heard him on the wizarding wireless, one of the odd pieces of wizarding technology that adorned their lounge room. Hermione had also explained some of what had occurred when she'd met him.

As ever with Hermione's stories from Hogwarts he knew she was editing what she told him and Jane what went on there. Beauxbatons so far had far fewer dangers.

He made sure to put the time and date and drew a big circle around the time, 3 hours hence from now.

"Hedwig, get this to Sirius Black as fast as possible, and make sure he reads it," Robert said giving the owl the letter. She gave a short hoot and took off.

He'd found it weird, talking to an owl, but she had this uncanny intelligence, much like her cat, which had a much better intelligence than any other feline. Their friends remarked on it often when they visited.

4 hours later, the phone rang again.

Robert looked over to the front door, there was no sign of Sirius, and no sign of Hedwig.

After accepting the reverse call he broke the news to Harry.

There was a long silence, he wasn't sure if he could hear anything. "_Oh well_."

It sounded like Harry was going to hang up. "Harry, listen, Hedwig hasn't come back, I don't know what Sirius gets up to in between his appearances on the wireless, but if you can call back maybe I can get Hedwig to go out again?" Robert tried, he didn't know where Harry Potter was, but he was a very young man out in the world, away from all support. He had to do something, he knew Harry would and had done things to help his daughter and others in the past, and he'd done what he'd needed to get himself out of the danger zone, to think what might've happened with Cedric and Viktor Krum.

Harry sighed. _"Okay, sorry for the reverse charge calls, but if it's alright, I'll call tomorrow, around the last time?"_

"That sounds good." The phone line went dead. "Bye," Robert said to himself as he hung up the phone.

-/

It was two hours later, when he really should have been in bed that there was a knock on the door and he found a disheveled man standing on the front porch.

"Sirius Black I presume?" Robert asked.

The man nodded. He smelt of alcohol and had a bloody ear which looked like it had been pecked at repeatedly.

Robert gestured through the house to the kitchen and saw Hedwig back on her perch. He was sure he could see a bit of blood on her beak, but perhaps it was just a trick of the light.

Sirius Black started to cry as Robert explained to him that Harry had called, and waited for him to come.

Sirius Black didn't explain what he'd been up to. That had been self evident.

—/ — \\\—

Harry Potter watched from a distance, he didn't have the luxury of a set of binoculars, ominoculars or anything like that.

After cleaning himself up, he'd used a point me spell to find the nearest town. So he'd found himself in the metropolis of Aswan.

It was certainly a shock to be here, after the small towns he'd been in for months now.

He wasn't sure he liked it, he was only just holding himself together in any stable way.

Stable in the most basic sense he'd been able to find a wizarding bazaar and trade some of his ingredients, including one or two phials of potion and petition a few of the traders that he could make some potions for them.

Many had knocked him back, until he'd provided a sample of his work and a vague description or where and how he'd made it. That had impressed them, that he'd done it in the desert with just a fire and very few speciality ingredients.

It had given him a few more ingredients and a little bit of money, enough for some food, but not enough to remove the desire to break into tears. He just needed, wanted a friendly voice, someone to talk to.

The only number he knew was Hermione's parents. Sirius had failed to come.

He'd waited, as Mr Granger had asked, called again, finally, then when he had got a hold of Sirius he'd been apologetic, almost in tears himself and asked if he could come and see him.

It had taken a second call, talking with Sirius, after he'd worked out somewhere to meet.

But by then Harry still wasn't sure, speaking to Sirius, it had raised his spirits, he wasn't sure if he was ready to face something real.

Plus there was still a warrant on him, he was still a fugitive.

If he could believe Robert Ganger and Sirius that Sirius was pardoned, what did that mean?

-/

Sirius cut through the crowd looking like a tourist in an almost too clean, too white linen suit.

Harry had found a cafe that served wizards and muggles, and a roof where he could observe people walking up to the tables, there were some outside under an awning, and it was there he'd told Sirius he'd meet him.

-/

Sirius sat down one of the empty tables and looked around. It smelt here of heat, muggle vehicles and something else unidentifiable, something unpleasant.

He'd needed to get a very expensive portkey created 'off the books' to get across Europe, then another to the general area and finally then he'd apparated the rest of the way.

It was unpleasantly hot and there wasn't any alcohol, although understandable, as Harry wasn't of age a pub meeting was out.

But why here?

"'Scuse me sorry," Sirius said as a dirty small man sat down dropping an old patched up bag beside him, his face wrapped up from the dust, he said something in the local language towards a man stood near the doorway who nodded. "I'm waiting for someone," he started to speak much more slowly as the small man pulled off his hat. His messy hair had been pulled and tied together into a small bun on his head.

Then a tray with a teapot and two mugs was brought over. "I'm waiting for someone," he repeated slowly and louder as he looked back around, hoping that Harry wouldn't abandon him seeing this ruffian.

"You're really thick Sirius," the dirty ruffian said as he pulled the material away that was covering most of his face, dropping it on top of his hat.

Sirius' breath was caught in his chest for a moment.

"Hello Sirius, tea?" Harry asked.

-/

Sirius was staring at the bruises on his neck and probably on his sleeve when he reached for the mug of tea that had been brought over.

He'd gotten fairly good at asking for directions, basic food and things like that. Basic conversations, that stuff he'd needed to do and needed to learn quickly.

Sirius had looked like he'd wanted to hug him, Harry wasn't sure. He wasn't sure if Sirius might try to apparate him away from all of this. Karim had done that, to show him what apparition was.

He'd also explained he was a free, pardoned man.

"And the death warrant on me?" He asked cynically.

Sirius slumped. "It's not a death warrant," he said with little conviction.

"And did Ron really endorse it? Harry asked.

Sirius breathed in, wrinkling his nose. "The Ministry can't lie about things like that."

Harry asked about the Tournament, what happened, what _really _happened.

Sirius looked at him. "How do you know?"

"Found an old _Prophet_ that's how I knew about the warrant," Harry said in a short tone.

"The truth is under a Z Notice, it's a thing by the Ministry, prevents people knowing the truth, Remus only told me because Dumbledore told him," Sirius explained.

Harry frowned. "He's back working at Hogwarts?"

Sirius nodded enthusiastically.

"Hermione must be happy," Harry smiled.

Sirius frowned. "You don't know, Robert didn't say?"

Harry shook his head.

"Hermione's at Beauxbatons…" Sirius trailed off and then explained.

Harry leaned back in his chair.

"Robert said that it was Hermione's decision, she saw Madame Maxime as soon as Dumbledore made his threat," Sirius explained.

Harry didn't say anything for a few moment. "As long as she's happy," he said as he leant forward to pour more tea for himself.

"Will you tell me how you got those injuries Harry?" Sirius asked.

Harry shook his head.

They sat in silence for a while.

"There's nothing that can be done about the warrant is there?" Harry finally asked breaking the minutes long silence.

Sirius looked pained.

Harry snorted. "I thought not."

"Harry, wizarding contracts are tricky. That you left one makes it complicated," Sirius began to explain.

"Even though I didn't put my name and Dumbledore banged on about how dangerous it was, then refused to help. I just had to 'do my best'. After the last couple of years! And now you tell me Voldemort was waiting, potentially for me?!" Harry asked in an angry tone.

Sirius didn't say anything for a while. "The warrant was created by the Ministry. That it was endorsed by the Supreme Mugwump and one of your peers makes it more difficult Harry."

Harry sighed.

"If you'd only participated-" Sirius began.

"No Sirius!" Harry almost shouted. "Don't you understand? Or is it because Dumbledore gave you your pardon, to find me I assume?" He'd worked out why Sirius was so instructive about how the pardon came about.

Sirius shifted, his face turning through different contortions.

"Your relatives are dead," he said with a harsh tone looking at him angrily.

The sudden revelation shocked him. "Why?"

The question seemed to surprise his godfather. "What?"

"Why tell me now?" Harry frowned at him. "Because I questioned your pardon?" Harry gathered his things. "Maybe I shouldn't have called for you," Harry shook his head. "Everyone seems to turn on me whenever I question the status quo," he blinked fighting back the tears he thought he'd worked out as he made to stand up. Sirius grabbed for his hand. He snatched it away.

"I accepted Dumbledore's proposal, but I didn't think I'd be able to find you! Didn't even know where you might have gone, no one thought you had the wherewithal to get here of all places," Sirius pleaded.

Harry sat back down into his chair, watching Sirius warily, blinking away the beginnings of tears.

"It was from the Ministry and the Dumbledore Harry, I thought it was the best way to help," Sirius began.

"Yourself?" Harry asked.

Sirius slumped. "Yes Harry! Being in Azkaban, I told you…"

Harry nodded.

"Dumbledore must have convinced the Minister that using a fugitive to find another would be best, and good for his relationship with the media. Pardoning me to help find you…" he shook his head. "I didn't know how to find you, Dumbledore thought I would know," he sighed. "The Ministry went ahead with the warrant after a few months, they got bored I guess with me stalling _and_ trying to the find you."

It sounded like the truth, he was certainly more forthcoming than he had been.

"Here," Sirius took a card out of his pocket. "If you need to contact me, it's a muggle phone number, 'reverse the charges'."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but didn't take the card, he left it on the table in front of him. "You have a phone?"

Sirius shook his head smiling. "A friend, a muggle-born werewolf, I've been helping the cause."

Harry put a hand into his bag and found his notebook and looked over the table at the card and wrote down the number.

"You don't trust me?" Sirius didn't sound hurt, not exactly.

"After what you said of the cup, should I?" Harry asked watching his godfather. "What about my relatives? Was that to hurt me? Or distract me?" He pressed.

Sirius looked worried and uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…I'd been out drinking," he scratched his ear. "Hedwig nearly bit my ear off."

"They are dead then?" Harry pressed.

"Dementors," Sirius' voice was full of dread.

Harry sighed. "What they did to me, I'm glad I'm no longer there with them" he shook his head. "It didn't warrant their deaths," he caught Sirius' eye. "Trying to distract me with their deaths was in poor taste Sirius," he said calmly.

Sirius looked at him curiously. "I wouldn't have been so calm Harry."

"I've needed to think for myself and make decisions," Harry admitted.

"I can't stay here with you," he explained apologetically "the Ministry still keeps tabs on me," he raised his eyebrows. "I still make sure they can't do anything, making sure no one like me ends up imprisoned."

"And fighting for werewolves like Remus?" Harry asked with a smile.

Sirius nodded eagerly. "Do you need anything? Money?"

"My account at Gringotts is still frozen isn't it?" Harry asked. More than once he'd wished he'd brought more money. But that was a luxury that he didn't have, and it had informed his decisions thus far, and would likely continue to do so.

Sirius nodded. "Mine was too, they still accumulate interest."

Harry sighed. "Muggles use cards to access their money electronically, yet us wizards have to enter a single physical location?" Harry shook his head.

"Money can be delivered to a trusted association outside…but it's the same," he reached into his pocket again and put a bag on the table. "It's not a portkey Harry, they're complicated things to create, and one couldn't transport you back to England."

Harry hesitated.

"I'm your godfather Harry, I should be able to help you," Sirius said with a smile.

Harry took the bag, feeling its weight. He could manage…but having a little bit of protection and some cleaner clothes and a bag that wasn't held together with badly sewn patches would make his life nicer.

"Thanks Sirius," Harry stood, as did Sirius, Harry embraced him in a hug.

Sirius hugged him back, holding him for several moments.

It was…a relief, just to be hugged back, for a moment, even if he wasn't sure if he could fully relax.

Then he let go of him.

"Now you're just going to disapparate?" He asked as Harry pulled on his bag and hat.

Harry shook his head, feeling more invigorated than he had. "I was going to walk off, I wouldn't disapparate here."

"But you can?" Sirius asked.

Harry smiled, but didn't say anything. He still wasn't sure if Sirius was fishing for knowledge about him, it was a suspicion he couldn't shake.

"Call me Harry if you need anything," Sirius said.

Harry nodded, turning away from his godfather. His spirits lifted, but his paranoia heightened.

-/


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 06**

Ron looked up in excitement as Hedwig flew in. He still saw her and hoped that he'd see Harry sat opposite him tucking into some roast beef or something.

But no, Hedwig flew over their tables dropping a letter at the Hufflepuff table for Diggory, a letter for Fred and George and then finally one for him.

And the sender wasn't Harry, it was his other missing friend, his other friend who'd abandoned him.

_Hello Ron,_

_I'm not going to defend myself against your ramblings, see this as my last letter if you wish, I won't continue to write if all you're going to do is have a go at me for being loyal to Harry, even though I didn't know anything. You can't say who I'm friends with and who not, I was there over the summer, you chose not to come and visit._

_If you don't want to write any more, then fine. I just…I just don't care any more Ron, I'm not going to argue or whatever it is you want._

_Write to me at Beauxbatons, or don't._

_Your friend,_

_Hermione Granger_

_Beauxbatons Academy of Magic_

Ron realised he was crumpling the piece of fine parchment, only when his brothers came to sit either side of him.

"Hermione's finally sick of your ranting eh brother of ours?" Fred asked.

"She mentioned your 'demands'," George looked to him, then punched his arm.

"Watch it!" Ron snarled.

"No, you watch it Ron. Hermione's a great witch, and you're doing everything you can to push her away," Fred said calmly.

"Into yours and Diggory's arms!" Ron hissed surprising those nearby.

George laughed. "No Ron, she's friends with us, because we sat and talked, did things together, nothing more."

"Like teaching her to fly," Ron said it as though it was a conspiracy.

"Did you ever offer?" George asked.

"No, she never mentioned wanting to. Thought she was happier inside helping mum," Ron said with a shrug.

Both brothers sighed.

-/

_Hello Cedric, _

_I hope with everything you're still finding returning to Hogwarts well…easy enough. _

_After what happened with Harry, what Ron and I helped with in our first and third year, I found returning bringing up memories of…well you were there for the Chamber of Secrets, even if we weren't directly involved. _

_Some of the students here say that Hogwarts has a reputation for 'trauma', I thought that maybe this was just Beauxbatons rubbishing Hogwarts, but even in 'a History' it's noted. _

_I took yours and the twins' advice, I went to the Quidditch and sports field and asked to borrow a broom to practice. Not that I'm interested in playing, but as you say it's a skill to maintain like any other. I think I'll still see if I can play as an assistant referee, I'm not going to be catching the Snitch! But I have made a good study of the rules._

_Know that I am here, if you want to talk, I'm but a letter away, and forgive me if I slip into French when I'm writing back._

_Your friend, _

_Hermione Granger_

_Beauxbatons Academy of Magic_

-/

_Dear Hermione, _

_Professor Lupin is back at Hogwarts! I know you were involved with what happened with him and Sirius Black when he was last at Hogwarts, thought you'd like to know._

_He kept me aside, said if I wanted to talk about….about the incident that I could, that Dumbledore had filled him in on what actually happened. I still don't know about it, you said that Harry trusted him._

_I'm still not sure about stepping out onto the Quidditch pitch, where the cup was, I know it's not there, that the cup isn't there I mean, but…I'm going to talk to Professor Sprout about it tomorrow._

_I think I want to focus on my study, not Quidditch. I still have pains, I don't know if it's a memory or real or not. I might talk to Professor Lupin about it. He alluded to it. _

_Professor Lupin also alluded to his werewolf status. The Ministry has said it's removed any barriers for employment of werewolves._

_Ron appeared angry and frustrated receiving your letter, he looked at me with an angry look. _

_My housemates think it's a good thing, having friends at other schools, albeit a former student of Hogwarts, but still they think it's great._

_Your friend, _

_Cedric Diggory_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_-/_

Albus Dumbledore smiled as one of his former students entered his office.

He had hoped, when he had appointed this particular student prefect that he would learn the value of a position, and then the when and wheres, when in a position of power one could bend the rules, and when to uphold them. Alas Mr Percy Weasley had joined the ranks of the Ministry of Magic below the Minister for Magic.

"Greetings Mr Weasley, do come in," Albus beamed as he gestured with his wand; a chair slid from the side of the room. "It is always good to see a former student of Hogwarts and from the Ministry," Albus paused, fixing the younger Weasley with a stare. "Especially after the unfortunate events of last year."

Percy Weasley shifted in his formal robes, donned, Albus assumed for this very occasion, the Ministry was less stringent with its formal robes, especially for a junior assistant to the Minister, he usually wanted things done fast, unencumbered by such things as formality. As long as they were outside of the public and media eye.

Sirius and the more formalised wizarding media had ensured the latter was more prominent. Not always the best thing. But he had agreed to him using the Black residence for the Order's meeting swiftly, which was a good deed of his.

"Thank…Thank you Headmaster," Percy stuttered slightly as he took a seat opposite Albus.

"And what does the Ministry want today?" Albus asked.

"To sign this," Percy wordlessly floated a scroll he removed from within his robes.

Albus didn't need to read it, but made a show of looking at it regardless.

With the reformation of the Order of the Phoenix following the unfortunate events last year he had contacted prior members of the Order, some were unwilling to rejoin. But many had, aware of the Ministry's Z Notice and knowing that could only mean something scandalous or dangerous. He'd also contacted associates, friends and acquaintances within the Ministry of Magic to 'keep an ear out' as muggles said, as to significant goings on in the Ministry, and for instance anything unusual, be it a sighting of Harry and enforcement of the warrant, or anything else.

Despite assurances, the Minister it seemed had enjoyed his presence at Hogwarts, and the power and attention having a Ministry presence here brought him and his government.

A piece of parchment had been delivered; the notes from a meeting suggesting the appointment of Dolores Umbridge as 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor' to enforce Ministry educational decrees at Hogwarts.

Albus knew something like this would happen, he had forced the Minister's hand to remove Ministry interference at Hogwarts and also guarantee no Ministry interference with the appointment of Remus Lupin, even though the Ministry were aware of his affliction. Umbridge's name had been mentioned in passing, Fudge commented he would 'amend the legislation while Dolores was out for tea' to ensure her appointment despite lacking educational qualifications.

Other sources suggested this was a power fortification from both the Minister and Ms Umbridge.

Fortunately he had time to properly manoeuvre this time. He had failed Viktor Krum and Harry Potter by not foreseeing the events of the Tournament, and to a lesser extent Cedric Diggory.

Albus was certain, he would not lose control of his school. Hogwarts would remain a safe place for magical education.

He had, over the summer break met with all twelve of the Hogwarts board of governors, to ensure their support, of course he'd had to agree to some things. No negotiation with them would be without it.

One governor did surprise him, Lucius Malfoy did not ask for any favours, except to ensure his son's utmost safety. Lord Malfoy had a haunted cast over his face throughout their meeting, with every mention of the previous year's events forcing him to turn away from Albus' gaze.

One or two, those whom Albus trusted the most did not fully support him 'if you really need me, I'll support you Albus, but it looks good to have a few dissenting opinions'.

Albus hoped he would not be in such a desperate situation.

Unlikely with Percy Weasley.

"No, Mr Weasley," Albus said floating the scroll of parchment back.

"No?" Percy seemed shocked. "You are aware this is a-"

"A request Mr Weasley from the Minister, and" he fixed the younger man with a steely gaze "I did read the parchment."

"The Minister requested I inform you that he will go to the board of governors if you are difficult regarding this matter," Percy stuttered slightly, but met his gaze.

Albus smiled and had to applaud the young man's calm under pressure and floated his own scroll over to the younger wizard. "That is a sealed letter to the Minister from the Hogwarts board of governors, restating their support of myself and my staff at Hogwarts. Repeating that Hogwarts remains an independent educational institute and will not used by the Ministry or used for 'special envoys' of the Ministry to carry out their rule here Mr Weasley," Albus rose from his desk and walked around to the front, closing the distance between himself and Percy. "Inform the Minister that there will be no educational decrees here, Hogwarts staff appointments have been approved by the board of governors, and we do not require the Ministry's hand of guidance or cast of influence," Albus finished by paraphrasing the letter the Minister had sent.

Percy stared in wide eyed surprise at his former headmaster. "Yes Headmaster, I'll…I'll tell him,' he suddenly leapt up and exited the room.

Albus gestured at the door to close, as he took a seat he heard one of the portraits clapping.

"Well done Dumbledore, you might have employed a werewolf, but keeping the Ministry at bay is worth any minor filth within these walls," Phineas Black commented.

Albus glanced up at him. "Yes, thank you Phineas, I hope you have something more to say, beyond my hiring policies."

"Your horcrux concern?" The portrait asked in an amused tone.

The word still filled Albus with dread, it was a concept he had been researching for some time, the word having eluded him until he had located a more obscure text. It was not something any sane wizard wished to pursue.

-/

Hermione had received a note saying there was a visitor waiting for her in the visitor's lounge at Beauxbatons. She wasn't expecting anyone and when she opened the door she was surprised to see Sirius Black looking out the window.

"Sirius?" Hermione exclaimed in surprise. "Have you heard from Harry?" She asked immediately, her father had explained Harry's phone call, and how Harry had contacted Sirius. And more worryingly how…distraught Harry had sounded,

Sirius smiled broadly. "Hello Hermione, we meet at least under better circumstances."

Hermione listened as Sirius explained meeting Harry, although he was cagey about _where_ he'd met him. He'd mentioned enough that she could deduce, especially if she visited the library to double-check place names.

"And the warrant, it's valid, and the contract active, even if the Tournament's ended?" she asked

Sirius grimaced. "You've been reading up."

"Some of my classmates, my friends here, their parents work throughout Europe, they've mentioned some things," Hermione distantly.

"I think Harry's enjoying being free of everything, of the expectations of Hogwarts and his housemates there," Sirius paused. "Of his relatives too," he said this in an odd way, with hints of regret.

"When Harry had that time in Diagon Alley, he said that was some of the most enjoyable time he had, away from school," Hermione smiled. "It's good to know he's free of all of that, Hogwarts and all," she smiled. "In some ways I should be sad, not being there Sirius."

"But here you're challenged more and there's no expectations? For being a friend of Harry's or Ron's, no concerns of danger?" Sirius asked.

"Or blackmail," she fixed Sirius with a look. "I won't forget what the headmaster tried to do."

Sirius shook his head sadly. "No."

Hermione looked at him. "But you're indebted to him? The headmaster leveraged Harry." she watched his expression. "Finding Harry for your pardon?"

Sirius smiled. "You're clever Hermione."

Hermione shook her head. "If the headmaster failed in blackmailing me he would have sought out other cards in his deck," she paused. "I am surprised the Headmaster leveraged, I assume the Minister also."

Sirius remained quiet.

Hermione nodded. "I won't pry Sirius, your deals are your own."

"Thank you Hermione," Sirius said rising from his chair.

"Sirius," Hermione began, making him turn. "If Harry's smart enough, which I know he is, he wouldn't have remained where you met him," she paused, fixing him with a look. "You looked worried, that's all."

"About debts owed?" He asked her.

Hermione nodded.

-/

Albus looked around himself at the memory, Sirius was stood off to the side watching himself and Harry.

"He was injured Sirius?"

"He said it was nothing, nothing he wanted to talk about," Sirius commented.

"It is what spurred his contacting you perhaps?" Albus asked.

"I'm not sure, perhaps, maybe he was just lonely and near a phone," Sirius offered.

Albus looked around himself. Sirius wouldn't say where he had met Harry. His loyalty to his godson.

But he had a loyalty to him, he promised that he would find Harry, and he pointed out he had done so.

Albus could not fault Sirius' duties to Harry, and he had learnt from Ms Granger not to push, too much.

As they exited the memory, Sirius withdrew it from the penseive. Albus watched, he would have liked to retain it for further study.

"Did Harry show any indications that he had been studying magic Sirius?" Albus asked.

Sirius shook his head. "He said he'd been trading potion ingredients."

Albus stroked his beard. "That suggests magical knowledge, and he is capable of apparition, not licensed of course."

Sirius nodded.

"Do you think Harry will contact you again Sirius?" Albus asked watching him.

Sirius shrugged. "I…I lost my temper a bit, told him bluntly about his relatives," he said with a sigh.

Albus watched the younger man, broken by his time in Azkaban. "How did Harry react?"

Sirius thought for a moment. "He said they treated him awfully," Albus looked away. "But that they didn't deserve what happened to them."

Albus nodded. "I see, thank you Sirius."

Sirius rose and paused. "Is this it? I found Harry and told you…" he trailed off.

Albus smiled. "You do not owe me a debt Sirius…" he trailed off. "But, the Order is functioning, we can always have new and old members."

Sirius nodded slowly. "I'll think about it. I do have other commitments," Sirius paused by the door. "As you said to the Minister Albus 'each werewolf who's not against the Ministry is not for Voldemort'."

Albus was shocked Sirius knew what he had said to the Minister, but did not relax until Sirius had departed.

"You know, Dumbledore, my grandson may be many things, but he can surprise you." Phineas Black had become somewhat annoying, but far too useful, and somewhat too vocal in his office.

"Do you have any insights beyond snide comments Phineas?" Albus asked wearily.

"I have a text for you to seek out concerning the horcruxes headmaster. Some of my fellow portraits have had a discussion." Phineas commented.

"Excellent."

-/

Harry wasn't sure where he was.

With the money Sirius had given him he'd exchanged the majority of it for muggle money, bearing in mind what Sirius had said about the cup, in the back of his mind he still considered the possibility of a portkey.

He wasn't sure he'd trust anything given to him, ever now.

He'd replaced his bag and sought some new underwear and clothes, nothing frivolous, nothing fancy. The rest of the money he secreted away, rainy days might not come where he was very often, but when they came he wanted to have that safety net.

He did use some of the money to purchase some more potion ingredients, and even a book in English from an old seller in the bazaar. The cover was mostly worn away and it looked like it had been published around the 1920s and was titled 'My Grand Tour or Help for wizards on a Grand Tour'.

He'd stayed the night nearby to where a bunch of the wizarding traders at the bazaar were camped. They said they didn't mind and while Harry did harbour some concern that the Ministry might discover from Sirius where he was, he figured a night wouldn't bring too many worries.

The following day he intended to head out towards the Red Sea, he just wanted to dip his feet into it. Some had said the waters of the Red Sea held magical properties, although Harry wasn't sure. There were a lot of cargo ships travelling along it, that might make it less magical, it'd certainly make the vista less magical.

But alas, in the middle of the night he was awoken by someone calling outside his tent.

And now he was here.

From what he'd gathered this man had been doing something for them when he'd apparated out, and badly splinched himself.

He'd asked for an English healer.

And when someone had come to Aswan asking around the wizards there they'd found him; a British person who was buying potions.

And that was through his quite bad, though not awful Arabic.

Harry quickly unpacked one of his cauldrons calling for wood for a fire and water. Going through his bag he knew he didn't have the ingredients for the topical potion that Karim had used. Karim had also told him what went into it, just in case he'd ever need it.

He'd said it wasn't _just_ dittany, but that was where he'd start.

Going over to the men who were standing a small distance away from his he tried his best to explain what he needed before writing the Arabic words in the sand, these he remembered from all his potion label writing.

As he wrote the men were nodded and clapped him on the shoulder and said 'Yes, I know these' and then ran off into the darkness.

-/

Bill Weasley blinked slowly awake and knew he was in trouble.

He'd accepted an 'off the books' job to do some curse breaking, not for the goblins. He knew he shouldn't have.

The goblins gave him challenging, well paid work.

But this job from a group of wizards, who didn't speak much English, but wrote down a figure with a big number and several zeros, it was too tempting.

It was across the Red Sea in Saudi Arabia, which meant it was outside of his contract with the goblins, so he wasn't bound by their agreements.

Unfortunately it also meant he wasn't covered by their general translation spell allowing him to understand everyone. Weaving translation spells was complicated, especially for a regular language.

The tomb had been difficult to break into, there were many, many bodies of people, witches and wizards that had failed to make their way in.

He had mostly succeeded, but then as the gold, precious jewels and notable pottery was being removed something was triggered, faster than he could move, wards and other unknown barriers started slamming down around him.

He'd had no choice but to apparate out, despite the huge risks.

Everything down his left side was in pain and wet, with blood he knew that.

"Give the man some water," said someone, Bill couldn't see, it was dark and he was lying down, he could see a figure working at a cauldron.

Someone brought a water bag to his lips and he sipped a little bit of water, coughing as he did.

The man turned from the fire and moved over to a muggle bag that was closer to him Bill could just about see and removed a small glass phial.

"Here," the man pressed it to his lips. "A small sip, Pepper Up," he muttered. "Or something close to it," he turned away. "They say you're a tough one, should've died."

Bill sipped a small amount of the potion, rolling it around on his tongue before he swallowed. It wasn't poison, but it definitely wasn't a potion up to the standard of a British healer.

The phial was taken away and stoppered by the man. "You look really familiar…" he trailed off to himself.

"What's…what's your name?" Bill croaked.

"Harry," he said simply.

"Bill, Bill Weasley," Bill said and then someone shouted to the man.

"Rest Bill," Harry gently said.

-/

Harry was saved from saying something else by being called away.

The man who said he knew what the potion ingredients were had arrived back, holding some fine green reeds, a branch with large green leaves on it and a vine with egg-shaped purple and orange fruit.

He held them out for you and said 'These are what you asked for'.

Harry nodded, a little stunned more than anything. He'd never seen any of these potion ingredients as fresh things before.

Karim had some pictures on his walls and for some of the bottles.

He vaguely remembered Snape showing them pictures in class and seeing them in his textbooks.

He never thought he'd be holding a branch of dittany.

Harry grasped the green reeds and rubbed them together, feeling the juice wet his fingers and then gingerly licked it. Almost collapsing at the bitterness of it.

He didn't need to taste the other, he recognised dittany even though it was fresh.

-/

Bill woke up again to Harry painting a stinging potion onto his body.

"You're Harry Potter," he said as the teenager passed him a water bag.

Harry smiled at him. "Fugitive of the Ministry."

Bill winced as Harry ripped his blood soaked, albeit now dry clothes and continued to brush on the potion from a cauldron he was holding. "What?"

Harry seemed surprised. "You've not read a newspaper recently?"

Bill coughed, it was meant to be a laugh. "You don't have any more of that ersatz Pepper Up?"

Harry gave him a look and reached into his shirt. "Sip it, I don't want to kill you before I've tried to help, you should have got a healer."

"Why are you a fugitive?" Bill took the phial looking at it in the moon light, by his reckoning it was very early morning.

"Well," Harry began.

Bill listened, not interjecting as Harry explained, he was braver than most wizards. In fact he was probably a bit naive, just wandering off a ship into the wilds of Egypt, yet here he was. With a essentially a fifth year's knowledge or beyond. That fact did not escape him as Harry continued to apply the potion to him.

"There, the potion should slowly heal your splinching wounds, I wouldn't move much. The guy who taught me said that small bits were fine to move with, but you were wounded all down your right side," Harry said as he scooped out the remaining potion and slapped it onto the side of Bill's head where there was still something of a wound.

Bill swore at the stinging that ensued.

"Drink something and…" Potter looked around and picked up a small bag. "Your friends say this is food, I think it's dried meat."

"Harry, are you...going?" Bill asked, his voice catching in a cough.

Harry shook his head, gestured at the cauldron. "Cleaning and nap."

-/

Harry lay down against his backpack the night was cold, but the fire for the potion had been built far too big so he'd saved a lot of wood that he'd now piled up and fed back into the fire.

There was something uneasy about this place, he'd not really noticed it while creating the potion for Bill. It was hardly brewing, it was mostly cooking, using Karim's shortcuts. He hoped it would help Bill. He'd chucked in a bit more of the stabilising ingredients and the dittany, hopefully not too much. Bill would probably have a good many scars, Karim had said that he would from his own attempts. Getting splinching wrong, the scars were a reminder. Though they'd faded, and would disappear, in time, more or less.

He didn't feel like setting up his tent, he wanted to be within range of Bill in case something happened.

It was weirdly serendipitous that he'd meet another of the Weasley clan out here, wherever here was.

In the morning he resolved to use a Point Me spell to work out where he was, or where he was in relation to where he'd been.

For now he just wanted to sleep.

-/

"Harry! Harry! Wake up!"

Harry jerked away, throwing himself forward to where Bill was shouting, almost colliding with the fire.

"What, what is it?" Harry looked around and felt, rather than saw the creature. It was currently sucking the life force out of one of the men who was part of Bill's group.

A creature of darkness and dread, one he hoped never to have to come face to face with again.

Bill was looking decidedly deathly.

Harry withdrew his wand and summoned up memories of relief, of happiness of escaping the Tournament and the happiness and joy of being free, and then knowing Sirius was pardoned and…."Expecto Patronum!"

The light of his patronous exploded from his wand, powering towards the Dementor and illuminating everything around them, including the other wizards and witches all holding their wands seemingly battling other deathly creatures.

Then, the Dementors were gone and he was feeling exhausted.

"Wake me if there's anything else," Harry said drowsily. "Pity, no chocolate," he muttered, returning to his bag and fell asleep.

-/

Bill stared, gaping in awe at the young wizard. One who'd just conjured a fully formed patronous, defeated a Dementor and what appeared to be a ghoul and whatever else behind the fire. Then Harry had casually muttered something about chocolate and gone back to sleep.

That Harry had done all of that was amazing, that he'd done all of that after brewing a fairly competent splinch-recovery potion along with whatever he'd done the previous day was almost unbelievable.

Those that had contracted him to open the tomb were looking across at Harry and then to him in that same surprised awe.

What had happened to Harry Potter that he could face a Dementor with a steely gaze and not be fazed by it? And out here away from any support or assistance.

-/

Harry woke up shortly before sunrise and started to look around the camp.

There was no evidence of what happened the previous night and Harry did wonder whether he'd imagined it.

Dementors.

Then his stomach rumbled. Then he realised he could smell flatbreads being prepared.

Someone clapped him on the back and beckoned him towards where the smell of food was coming from.

-/

Bill jerked awake and rolled over with a groan. He felt like all of his muscles had been pulled down his left side and he'd been thrown around by a dragon.

Then with a feeling of a broom falling down a well he remembered everything from the previous night.

Feeling along his side he felt the slightly tacky and crumbly potion flaking away. Looking down he pulled it and winced as it came away.

Along his body were a series of swirled sores and scars, but they were not the open wounds that he'd tried in vain to heal with his wand and mostly failed.

Looking around Harry was nowhere to be seen, although his bag, was still where he'd dropped to sleep on it.

Shifting he found the water bag he'd had last night and also the remains of the Pepper Up potion Harry had given him, now in the light he could see it was much more similar in colour to a Pepper Up.

-/

Harry nodded, smiling he gave his thanks. Not for breakfast, he'd thanked them profusely for that and was full to bursting.

For teaching him how to 'know' a portkey.

That was his request, when they'd come the previous night wanting help, he'd said 'teach me something'.

When they'd produced a piece of rope (for travel) he realised it was a portkey.

Walking back to Bill he remembered something else.

"Point me north," Harry said, the wand in his hand. It pointed up. That was good. "Point me Aswan," it pointed west, that wasn't terrible. He had been intending to go to the Red Sea. "Point me to the Red Sea," his wand continued to point west. So, Harry assumed he'd crossed the Red Sea.

When he got back to Bill he had a small picnic cloth the size of a napkin on his chest and was sitting up.

"Emergency breakfast," he said by way of explanation. "Keep in my pocket."

Harry nodded and sat down beside him. "It's healing up."

Bill grinned. "Thanks to you."

Harry looked at him quizzically. "They've got people here who know how to heal, why not…?"

Bill laughed. "My Arabic isn't as good as yours, the goblins provide translation for us."

He must have had a quizzical expression, so Bill explained.

Harry nodded as Bill finished his explanation. "So this is off the books, wherever we are."

"You don't know?" Bill asked surprised.

Harry shook his head. "I was in Egypt, heading for the Red Sea," Harry paused. "What are you going to say about me?"

Bill looked at him confused. "Nothing, as far as I'm concerned, you saved my life Harry, what can I do for you?"

-/

Later Bill bade farewell to Harry, having offered to take him back across to Egypt, which he'd rejected.

Harry smiled, walked off and then disapparated.

Harry hadn't wanted money, even though it was clear that everything he had was in one muggle bag, and Bill knew, as a fugitive of the Ministry he wouldn't have any access to his bank accounts. The goblins were sticklers for that sort of thing.

'Teach me something' was what Harry had said earnestly.

So he had, he'd thought of every practical spell, every useful spell and every other spell that he'd not learnt at Hogwarts and let Harry write them all down in a notebook he'd uncovered from his bag and given him time to practice them at least a few times, with pointers.

Then Harry had given him another phial of his Pepper Up potion and bade him farewell, asking only that he say hello to Fred and George and tell them he was alive and well.

Not Ron though. Bill gathered that Ron had not supported Harry's statement of false inclusion in the cup. His youngest brother was always the most headstrong.

-/

The healer tutted, she was a private healer in Cairo, whom Bill had seen before. "You are very lucky Mr Weasley, whoever tended to these wounds probably saved your life," she said as she gestured with her wand bringing up a mirror so Bill could look down the length of his body. "You see these small twisting vortices from the scarring?"

Bill nodded.

"These are secondary splinching, the potion used arrested these before they could spin off and cause further damage."

Bill laughed a short laugh. "I thought losing a lot of blood was bad enough."

The healer looked at him seriously. "That Mr Weasley would have been just the start, I can see you attempted some ill considered healing spells. Whoever appeared out of the night and helped you, you owe your life to. These injuries are often fatal," she paused and smiled "in the most brutal way."

Bill swallowed. "And the scarring? Not that it matters, not next to death."

The healer sniffed and looked closer. "Some is due to the concentration of the potion, perhaps mixed in haste, the scars should be a reminder not to do something ill considered again," she paused "they will fade in time." She banished the mirror. "I will prescribe some additional healing potions and balms," she said as she sat down at her desk. "Will you require a note to your employer?"

Bill shook his head. "I got this while out exploring, they've given me three weeks off to heal up."

"Good, away from the heat, where this trauma to your body occurred Mr Weasley, rest and recuperate," she said as she signed the scroll. "After you pay take this to the apothecary across from the waiting room."

-/

Fred looked to George as they made their way across Hogsmeade to the Hog's Head Inn, the letter in their oldest brother's hand had said to meet them here, at the back of the pub.

Pushing open the door they didn't look to any of the pub's inhabitants instead making their way to the back of the pub where a man sat in the alcove.

Rising he embraced them both in a hug.

"Bill!" They exclaimed.

"Does mum know you're home?" George asked as they sat down, Bill had already ordered for them.

He shook his head, he was staying in London before going out to France to see some friends, then he'd come back and pretend to only be home for a week.

"I've a message for you, from Harry," Bill said, both his brothers' eyes went wide.

"Harry?!" Fred exclaimed in a loud hiss.

Bill explained a highly edited version of the events that led to him encountering Harry Potter.

"I've seen the death warrant for him, what in Merlin's name has been going on here? Ron endorsed it! I wanted to hear everything from you two directly," Bill asked looking between his two brothers whom Harry asked him to inform them of his status as being relatively safe.

"…then the Headmaster tried to blackmail Hermione Granger to try and find out where Harry was…"

"…then Hermione's dad turns up on a muggle steam train at Hogsmeade station…"

"We didn't find out that Ron was doing the warrant until he actually did it, doesn't talk to us, he thinks we're keeping things from him, he still thinks that, right paranoid."

"…and that's about it Bill," Fred finished.

"You alright Bill?" George asked looking to him.

Bill leaned back into his seat, floored by what his brothers had just explained to him and said as much to them.

"So what really happened with you Bill?" Fred finally asked after some silence.

"You don't look half peaky," George commented, looking at him. "What aren't you telling us?"

Bill sighed. "You can't tell mum, or dad," he said seriously as he looked between his brothers.

They both grinned. "We love secrets us, great with them," Fred said.

George whistled. "No wonder you don't look good."

"What're you going to do now?" Fred asked.

"Recover, a friend of mine's got a farmhouse in France, I'm going there for some rest and relaxation before going home for a bit," Bill said.

"Where you won't get either if dad or mum finds out what happened," Fred said with a raise of his eyebrows.

-/

Hermione looked up as Fleur approached, she had been worried that she wouldn't get on with her, given that she'd been there at Hogwarts as a student when she'd arrived and was a friend of Harry, one of the other contestants, and now a friend of Cedric's. But at the start of the new school year Fleur had sought her out and congratulated her, that it was her lateral thinking that led her to discover the egg's meaning.

"Hermione, there is a young man in the visitor's lounge who asked to see you," Fleur said as Hermione rose to walk with her back to the visitor's lounge.

First Sirius and now…? Hermione wondered who else was visiting her during the school year.

"Did he introduce and present himself?" Hermione asked.

Fleur nodded smiling broadly. "A William Weasley, a rather roguish gentleman," Fleur said the latter half of her sentence in English. When they'd begun school for the new year she'd indicated that being at Hogwarts had spurred her to try and develop a more robust English lexicon.

Hermione laughed as Fleur led her to the door and knocked twice.

"Not too long Hermione, I will inform your classmates you may be delayed," Fleur said as she left.

Hermione walked in to find William Weasley looking a little awkward in the visitor's lounge.

"Bill?" Hermione asked, addressing him. She knew of Ron's eldest brother, and had seen the photo from his trip to Egypt, but she'd never met him, but knew enough from Ron talking at her about his family.

"Hermione, I, you know me? Ron, I guess," Bill said in fits and bursts.

Hermione gestured to some chairs.

"I recently met Harry, he asked me to pass on to my brothers that he was okay, they explained how you found yourself here," Bill said. "Thought I'd pass on that Harry's well."

Hermione nodded.

Bill seemed surprised. "You already knew that, that he was in Egypt?"

Hermione nodded. "Only that he was in the Middle East. Sirius didn't go into specifics of where he was, but it's good to know from a…" she trailed off, she didn't want to say stable wizard. But she had smelt alcohol on Sirius' breath despite the earliness of his visitation.

-/

"Calm yourself Minister," Albus said with as much force as he could to stop Fudge pacing in front of his desk. The man promptly sat down.

"Dolores-"

"Ms Umbridge is a poor influence on your Ministry, Minister. Isolating Hogwarts was well within my right as headmaster, and her attempts to influence this school would have reflected badly on you and your government," Albus explained calmly.

"I hear more and more reports of Dementors defecting from their duties, reports of Death Eater sightings, I don't know how long I can maintain the Z Notices," Fudge continued his ramblings.

Albus leaned back, the Minister had fire called him because he 'had some concerns', he did not expect the Minister to descend into paranoid ramblings. He could see Phineas in one of the portraits at the back of the room. He mouthed at him 'Tell Minerva to begin, I will be delayed', Phineas seemed too amused by what was happening before him, but departed his portrait nonetheless.

Fudge seemed to be slightly relaxed as he fixed Albus with a look. "And you, what about Potter, I gave Black his pardon at your insistence and now-"

"And now he continues to support werewolves and other people, most of whom will be outside of Voldemort's clutches," Albus interjected.

"And what about all the challenges to my government, Dolores-" Fudge began again.

Albus sighed. "Minister, does Dolores Umbridge have any special qualifications that makes her indispensable?"

This seemed to make Fudge pause. "No, I don't think so, but she is very efficient and she had been of great assistance to me and my Ministry I can't-"

"Then assign her elsewhere, where she can have her own private fiefdom, while we concern ourselves with other matters, send her to the Isle of Man, there is a Ministry outreach location there."

Fudge chuckled. "That is the all responsibility, no power office Dumbledore," he clapped his hands together. "Good, I can make that work."

This decision seemed to take a load off of the Minister's soldiers.

Albus breathed a breath of relief. "Regarding Mr Potter, Sirius informed me he has made contact with Harry."

Fudge looked up like an eager kneazle.

"And unfortunately Harry has sequestered himself off in the Middle East, he is at least safe," Albus explained.

"I don't care about his safety Dumbledore!" Fudge sneered. "I care about the contract, which we and he remains bound to and has abandoned."

"Perhaps annulling the contract-" Albus began.

"No!" Fudge slammed a fist down on the arm of the chair. "You endorsed the warrant and are a participant in the contract Dumbledore, it will remain in effect! So Potter hides in the Middle East, there he will remain, I can at least show some strength."

Albus nodded, "And what of the transfer of prisoners from Azkaban?"

Since they had discovered the Dementors moving on their own, and Sirius' own machinations in the media he had pushed the Minister to find alternative accommodations for their prisoners.

"That is another thing, the courts are full, we have so many cases to reassess,' Fudge muttered.

Albus shook his head, there had been more than a few…unfortunate cases of swift judgement. More so than he'd initially thought. For every 'lenient' prosecution there was an equally harsh one, and following the war, no one really looked too closely, only when the Ministry was too lenient against a powerful family did people really remember.

"Appoint other senior members of the Ministry department to overview judging positions, they can pass preliminary judgement on cases, investigate ones that do not pass muster," he suggested.

The Minister nodded. "Yes, yes, thank you Dumbledore," he paused. "And yes, all but the most deranged have been removed from Azkaban, relocated to a muggle facility they provided to us, disused, but perfect for magical incarceration," he paused and gave Albus a look. "More 'humane conditions' as Black continues to harass the Ministry for."

"Very good, thank you Minister, would you like me to inform Sirius of this?" Albus asked.

"Black? Why in Merlin's name?" Fudge seemed confused.

"Perhaps he may be positive about the Ministry's actions?" Albus postulated.

Fudge nodded. "Very well, very well," he stood up. "Well, thank you Albus, I will…"

"Go and inform Dolores the good news," Albus prompted.

"Yes…Dolores…" The Minister walked to the floo and was away.

Albus let out a breath, he had considered oblivating the Minister, he was becoming somewhat unstable, in part because of Umbridge's influence. She had already attempted to enter the school, even after he had rejected her educational 'requests'. Thankfully she was intercepted by Pomona and Minerva who'd been taking a walk around the grounds. The Triwizard Cup had brought the two women closer, with Harry having abandoned them all and Cedric facing the disturbing events, it was a strain of both womens' houses.

"They were the same in my time," Phineas commented. "At least my grandson is using his influence to frustrate the man."

"Yes, thank you Phineas," Albus paused. "Your information was very useful, I thank you again," Albus praised.

"Anything to assist the Headmaster," Phineas said.

-/


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 07**

Harry Potter wasn't exactly sure where he was. Bill had offered to take him back to Egypt, but as he looked like he was barely able to apparate himself, he had refused.

He hadn't really intended to stay in any one country, he hadn't really decided on anything or anywhere to go. Even with his book of notes, he'd not found the need to really consult them for places to go, instead just wandering as he wished, with the freedom to do so bringing its own pleasure.

For now he had decided to explore here, he could always find his way back to Egypt, he'd barely begun to explore that.

It was a different sort of landscape to that which he'd been used to; rockier, hillier, there was still sand, but it was different. The feeling of this country was different.

He'd resolved to push himself a little more, apparate further distances, while still being (albeit on the cusp) of his vision. With this caveat he still felt safe enough in his apparating. He did not wish to have to apply the potion he had created for Bill on himself. He'd kept some of the ingredients he'd been given, not all of it had gone onto Bill's wounds, maybe sometime when he'd fully rested he would pull out his cauldrons and brew something up.

-/

Harry coughed, and tucked and rolled as he fell down the slope.

He'd pulled on his bag in a hurry, but hadn't managed to grab his tent, there'd been too many people shouting in a mixture of English, Arabic and another language he didn't recognise.

It was early in the morning, before the sun had risen.

He knew he was somewhere in the northern part of Saudi Arabia and he'd annoyed some people.

He knew that because they'd shot several bullets through his tent.

The tent whose poles had been broken and repaired countless times and he'd patched the tent itself many times from birds, insects and a particularly curious salamander who'd singed the edges one morning he'd decided to sleep in.

As he tucked and rolled away and down the small hill he was camped on, he prepared himself to apparate as he heard and saw brief muzzle flashes around where his tent was.

He tried not to be sad or angry at them, just relieved he had not unpacked his bag, intending to do that this morning.

Then he heard shouts, aimed in his direction and disapparated, not thinking of _where_ only to get _away_ from this situation to somewhere not too far and _safe_.

-/

Apparently he'd fallen down a mountain and into their camp, surprising them all, as they were just starting breakfast preparations.

He also had good, if accented Arabic according to the wizard in charge.

And he'd crossed another border.

Harry took all of this in as he was offered some food and explained he'd been shot at earlier, hence his haphazard apparition and appearance with them.

Apparently he was in the Kingdom of Jordan; another country to tick of his list of places he hadn't been intending to visit, but was happy to find himself in a new country nonetheless.

Supposedly it was the middle of April, which was another thing he didn't know, one day was mostly like the next and he'd not been keeping track.

After they had fed him and asked him questions of where he'd come from and where he was going, neither of which he really knew, he in turn asked them if he could do anything for them, and if they could teach him anything.

Those two questions were some of the first he'd learn in Arabic, the latter after he had left Karim, but the general idea was what had led to him being with Karim in the first place.

"You, a strange man, pops down a mountain and you want to know what you can help us with?" One of the elder wizards asked with a laugh.

Harry nodded, he didn't like to be indebted, and if he could help he would he said. He didn't have any money, but, he had his hands, his wand and some knowledge, and some potions ingredients, even a few potions, although his store of those was running low.

His Pepper Up and bone healing potions had been useful for trading with, no one thus far had taken issue with the fact that neither were the 'proper' potion.

-/

Harry stirred slowly over the low flame, it was very late in the evening, but he was determined to make the most of this night, and the ingredients that had been provided to him.

Many of them had minor and major injuries, which they had said 'we brace and wait to heal'. His bone repairing potion and a variant on the pepper up which leaned more towards healing than instant energy would, he hoped be of benefit to them. It meant he could use the ingredients that had been fetched for him for Bill.

Squatting down he breathed on the fire; the coals flared and he sprinkled on some finely broken up sticks.

There was no way easy to control a fire, not like at Karim's shop, nor like at Hogwarts.

He'd been away from school for more than a year now, and if he was honest he didn't miss it.

He missed flying his broom somewhat, but the injuries, the visits to see Madame Pomfrey, less so.

He didn't miss Ron, not after what he had said and done after his name had come out of the cup, and now, certainly not for endorsing the death warrant against him.

He did miss Hermione, but he hoped she was doing better as Sirius suggested, being at Beauxbatons, with Dumbledore deciding to blackmail her, he would have advocated leaving, if he hadn't been the cause he would have left with her.

He didn't miss the Dursleys, though he hoped they did not suffer, Sirius had suggested they hadn't in their deaths, despite everything they had done, they did not deserve that.

-/

Severus sat opposite Albus, he had returned to spying for the Order. The Headmaster's eyes within Voldemort's ranks.

Ranks that were somewhat thinner than they had once been, he had relayed as much to Albus.

He had not said specifically who, that was a different conversation, especially as it involved his godson, Draco.

Lucius had confided in him, the death of Krum and the torture of Diggory, Crouch Jr., had apparently said under Ministry interrogation that 'they' had been expecting Potter. When that didn't eventuate, the plans were underway and too hard to change so they continued on.

But the brutality of the torture of Diggory had shocked Lucius and other Death Eaters who had been present, those who had escaped the Ministry's focus the last time.

Severus didn't care about the theoretical justifications some of the others made for their plans for Potter.

It was useful to the Order that many of them had seen what had happened to Diggory and Krum and it had changed them, swayed them.

If only they knew that the torture of Diggory continued to have affects on him.

Severus had, when he'd been wandering the corridors and grounds seen Diggory sat outside, his eyes closed. Focusing on the still occasional pain, the sometimes shakes, the flashes of anger and the disjointed sharp points of agony and light. The continuing after-affects of the focus of many wizards' Cruciatus and other curses focused on a single wizard, panicked and in anguish.

He had wanted to approach Diggory, explain what might assist, but that wasn't his job.

In a moment of weakness and compassion he had given a roll of parchment to Pomona; potions and even some raw ingredients. She would know. She did know looking at the notes on the parchment, she had the honour not to say anything to him, or acknowledge beyond a smile that he had given her anything.

Without Potter or Diggory to 'liven up' Quidditch so Minerva lamented, he had been called on to produce far fewer potions for Poppy than previous years. It was a distraction he enjoyed, to be brewing potions away from the students. Brewing the wolfsbane for Lupin was a worthy if complex addition to his work, something he would not reveal to neither the recipient nor the man who instructed him to brew it.

"He plans to make an attempt on Azkaban," Severus said watching the older man as a cup was floated over to him.

Albus watched him. "Does he plan to liberate the Dementors there as well Severus?"

Severus shrugged. "He did not say, the Dementors are already running wild," he sneered. "Is the Minister in a firm enough frame of mind to increase protections on Azkaban? Even with Black's constant baiting of him he continues to use Azkaban as the only location to store criminals, many of which need I remind you support him."

Albus smiled at him, seemingly unconcerned with the information. "The Minister is in more control than you give him credit for Severus."

Severus wrinkled his nose as he sipped the tea. "I don't trust any of them in the Ministry."

"Rightly so Severus, rightly so," Albus mused.

"And Potter?" He pressed, nothing had been said of that boy for a long while. But he still owed…still owed…to be concerned.

"Sirius has indicated Harry is alive Severus," Albus looked to him. "You care for his well-being?"

"I have made my thoughts clear, if Potter has survived away from the Ministry thus far…" Severus trailed off as he finished his tea. "Then so be it," he stared at the older man. "You endorsed the death warrant, don't you have confidence in his capture and containment?"

"A formality Severus, I wish no harm on Harry," he said simply.

Severus shook his head, rising from his chair and passing the cup to the desk, then departed the office silently.

-/

Sirius seemed pleased that they were meeting somewhere he could get an alcoholic drink. The laws regarding alcohol were less strict in Jordan than where he'd been, although he had chosen a more tourist-centric location for their meeting, for Sirius. Harry would have been happy with a tea house in one of the more secluded side streets where he could read and relax while waiting for Sirius to arrive.

Harry didn't know why he'd decided to call the phone number that Sirius had given him. He had a sense that his birthday was approaching, aside from it signalling another year away from Britain it didn't matter much. It hadn't with the Dursleys, his birthday had never been marked as special, he wasn't special in any way. Only at Hogwarts did he realise he was seen as "special", and on many occasions wished he wasn't.

Calling the number, it was as Sirius had said, a friend who was a werewolf, she worked in both the muggle and magical world, and had a phone and a 'bag of cash from Sirius to pay for any expenses incurred, so don't worry' at his concerns over the phone call.

She'd also cautioned him on going across the border into Israel; their ties with the British Ministry of Magic were fairly well known, so she said.

The warrant would likely stand there.

"How'd you find yourself here Harry? Bored of Egypt?" Sirius beamed at him.

Harry shook his head. "Someone needed a hand, I was the hand."

"Someone?" Sirius asked curiously.

"Random wizard, they heard I had an understanding of potions," Harry explained with a shrug. "They gave me a portkey near here, thought I'd continue to wander."

Sirius watched him, Harry wondered if he was trying to work out which mis-truth he was saying, in the end he nodded and shrugged. "I managed to get an original printing of your poster" he laughed. "Matching ones now, you and I."

Harry laughed. It was good to laugh.

Then Sirius pushed a scroll onto the table. "Alex said you wanted this."

Harry cast a careful spell over the scroll, one he'd learnt to mostly say in a series of muttering rather than speaking it out loud.

Sirius made a noise. "You don't trust me Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "Just being careful Sirius," he said taking the scroll. It was a list of the countries that had official extradition and other associated agreements with the Ministry of Magic. He didn't want to wander across a border and find himself in danger.

"And where now Harry? Are you just going to keep wandering? I can pay, find a nice vila somewhere easy for you to sit and relax, there's plenty of nice places that aren't on that list," Sirius offered in a playful yet serious tone. "Most of Europe's a no-go, but you could go to South America, get some tutors, and enjoy, not a care in the world," Sirius offered casting an arm around, then his face fell. "This isn't the life you should have had, none of it should have happened Harry."

"Voldemort happened. Things change," Harry said in short tones.

"I…I should have been there for you, should have been there at Hogwarts…should have…should be more, now…" he shook his head, taking a long sip of his drink. It seemed to relax him.

Harry took the moment to sip his drink, not alcoholic, something local, fizzy and with ice, it felt luxurious to have ice and a straw in a drink. He didn't know what to say, not really. What was past, was past, he couldn't change it, despite what a time turner might suggest, his own experiences showed that it wouldn't change anything.

"There is, what is now, we control our own lives Sirius, I…I've learnt that I control that, where I'm going and what I'm doing," Harry explained, working out his thoughts as he went.

Sirius looked at him with approval "I like that," he paused and held his gaze. "But I worry, I am technically your guardian now especially now that…"

"Now that there's no one else?" Harry finished with a sigh.

Sirius nodded. "I could stay here with you," he offered half-heartedly.

"Suspicious if you did, you're still fighting the good fight against the Ministry for werewolves and those without a trial," Harry looked to his godfather. "That can't be easy."

Sirius nodded. "No, people who didn't have my abilities Harry, in Azkaban because the Ministry was lax or lazy."

"Maybe you need to go in, take over the joint?" Harry asked with a laugh.

Sirius laughed to, but pointed to him. "You've got a point you know Harry."

"But the Ministry doesn't allow former criminals to be Minister?" Harry wondered playfully.

Sirius nodded. "But I was pardoned, that's different."

"Minister Sirius Black?" Harry asked in an amused tone.

Sirius nodded and then shook his head. "Too much responsibility, too many things to worry about, I want to be able to hang out and have a couple of glasses of firewhisky to relax, not worrying about illegal dragon dung disposal affecting muggle dredging works in the Thames."

Harry took a moment to process what Sirius was saying and just nodded when he had.

"You'll be 15 soon," Sirius laughed shaking his head. "You're more worldly cynical and wise than I ever was."

Harry sipped his drink in thought. He didn't think of himself as either cynical or wise. Careful, cautious perhaps, and could speak a second language badly enough to get him through society.

-/

This was a _wadi_ according to those few people he'd met, it was a valley and river, in parts at least.

Where there was water there was life, that was true, more or less. He'd been apparating and trudging along for a few hours now and found not much of either. The landscape had a harsh feeling to it, and as he cast around with his wand he felt that presence of life seemed questionable even using magic to seek it out.

"Point me, Euphrates," Harry said laying his wand on his palm. He was still going in broadly the right direction.

He'd need to get out of this depression in the ground first he thought to himself as he looked up at the cliff and disapparated with barely a wisp on the wind.

The landscape up here wasn't featureless as such, it was more rocky than sandy.

Reaching for his water bottle he took a small sip.

He still had _enough_ water in his backpack, including, his emergency water, which he tried never to actually use, or at the most swap around with his regular water if he came across a plentiful water source. It was for desperate emergencies only.

He had more than once made a mistake, and needed to apparate several times with a parched mouth and headache of dehydration.

His expanding bags could only hold so much, he was wary of packing _too_ much into them, carrying too much with him all of the time. There had been occasions where his spell work on the expansion failed with hilarious results.

Focusing on a point on the horizon Harry adjusted his hat and disapparated.

Sirius told him that wizards could just fix a point on a map and apparate to it. Longer distances needed a portkey. A portkey also prevented you from exhausting yourself.

Harry knew that very well, too well in fact.

Sirius had asked him where he was going?

Looking to another point Harry dispparated again.

At least now he had, not a map, but a list of locations where he couldn't go, and the list was shorter than he'd thought, but included a surprising number of countries where he couldn't risk going. There were also countries with borders that he might accidentally cross that concerned him.

For now the Euphrates seemed like a good location to aim for, to work out his next move. He had considered heading for the Persian Gulf, after failing to dip his feet into the Red Sea, but his current apparition path was drawing him away from the Persian Gulf, it wasn't as though he had a plan.

He could still see it, if he wished, he wasn't beholden to anyone.

When he didn't run into people, or fall down a mountain into the people, he sat in his tent, his new tent which was much like his old one, simple and practical, and also inexpensive. He'd read a book, look up at the stars or practise the spells he'd learnt, discovered and been shown so far. Harry knew he'd have probably learnt more at Hogwarts, but he doubted, in fact he knew, that he would never have this freedom were he at Hogwarts or with the Dursleys. The latter had him savour any freedom he ever got, even aunt Petunia making him weed the garden was better than being trapped inside, first under the stairs and then in the barred room.

He did miss talking with his friends. Or was that friend? He'd often wondered that, whether he should still think of Ron as a friend. He had been his first wizarding friend.

Harry kicked some rocks as he looked around for another landmark or point to focus on to apparate to.

Ron had hardly been a friend around the cup, and then he had endorsed the warrant against him. That wasn't the mark of a friend…before Ron he'd not had any proper friends. Dudley had made sure of that in school before Hogwarts.

Sirius hadn't exactly explained the limits of the warrant, but had suggested that because it had been endorsed by Dumbledore and Ron that made it 'more complicated'. The contract remained in effect, but why the Ministry hadn't annulled that 'was another question' Sirius had said and suggested it was part of the Ministry's attempt at seeming strong in the face of Voldemort, the Z Notices and Fudge's machinations.

Harry did wish occasionally that he'd taken Hedwig with him, that at least he could have talked to her, sent her with letters to Hermione.

But he knew, though he didn't exactly know why he knew, that this was an exploration he needed to venture without such conveniences. Free to explore on his own, just as in Diagon Alley when he'd briefly escaped the Dursleys, he'd escaped them then, and now Hogwarts and all the expectations, the danger and the hateful glares from those he'd trusted.

Hedwig would be better with Hermione anyway.

-/

Cedric let out a whoop of joy as his breath chilled in the cold French air as he swung his body and the board around and came to a halt at the bottom of the mountain with some awkwardness to not fall on his face or arse in the process.

Fleur had invited himself and his parents along with Hermione and her parents to stay with them in their mountain chateau for the Christmas holidays.

Fleur had said 'us survivors of the tournament must stick together', it was somewhat of a dark proclamation, even in her accent.

Cho had asked if he would be staying at Hogwarts, as he had been considering it and she'd seemed disappointed when he'd said he'd made other plans, especially when she'd pressed where, somehow she knew he wasn't going home. When she'd heard he was visiting France her interactions with him seemed to become much colder than the snow outside.

"You are very good on that muggle board Cedric," Fleur praised as she came to a stop beside him on a set of skis.

"It's like being on a broom, just…more contact, more balance needed" he said simply, he also felt more in control with this board strapped to his feet. The contact to the ground, being able to be physical…he had not returned to the Quidditch pitch yet, and the lack of training for the team had left him wanting for some physical exertion, the nervous energy and tension he often felt, making him jump, flee sometimes. Professor Sprout had suggested some potions and even raw ingredients he could use, they'd helped, somewhat.

When Fleur had raised the possibility of coming for Christmas Hermione had asked if he had any snow sports experience; if he'd ever snow-boarded or skied. He freely admitted he had not even heard of the former.

It seemed the snow-board was a wholly muggle creation with no examples of witches or wizards utilising them.

Once the Grangers had arrived having flooed with his parents it seemed they were quite comfortable in the snow environment and encouraged him to 'get some lessons'. Hermione was eager to show him around a muggle snow environment for such instructions remarking 'you showed me how to fly, I can help you with this'.

It was nice to have a friend, with muggle knowledge and eager to help, and not one pushing for information. Not that there were many in his own house, but some in Ravenclaw made him despair sometimes, not to mention a few saying he should speak to a writer at the _Prophet_ about his experiences the previous year.

-/

Amos sat in the chalet with a snifter of brandy, he had watched Ced snow-board past at great speed. It warmed his heart more than the brandy did, to see him excited and full of life, even in the frigid exterior. And on a muggle creation. The Grangers had been of great assistance with this, another appreciation of muggle culture he and Maven had discovered through their muggle friends.

Robert had confided in them that he'd felt intimidated by Arthur's 'weird' fascination with the minutiae of muggle culture. It had made him laugh at Arthur's curiosities over the mundanities of muggle life.

When he and Maven had visited the Grangers, it was a house like others, the presence of muggle light globes rather than lamps was just something else, different, the appliances of the muggles' lives were on display in London in every building, if one did not focus solely on the wizarding environment.

"Apolline said she's got the elves getting together afternoon tea for when our children and partners come back from their snow adventures," Jane Granger said sitting down opposite him, holding what he could smell was a mug of peppermint tea.

Jane and Robert had indicated that they enjoyed skiing, and Maven had embraced the challenge, with Robert acting as her guide while Jane remained inside for today.

Amos preferred leaving the adventuring to Ced and his friends, the fire and a nice brandy was enough adventuring for him.

"I have to say, it's quite nice, just relaxing here," he paused and saw Apolline drifting over, "And again, thank you for inviting us."

"You must stop thanking me at every opportunity Amos!" She protested. "It is good that Fleur has found friends…" she trailed off. "Outside of her regular school associations."

"And Hermione is very much enjoying being with us and you for Christmas and with magic," Jane looked to her host. "I feel like I also want to thank you again, for being so accommodating."

Apolline nodded laughing. "Maven and Amos 'filled Hercule and I in' on your introduction to the magical world, we are not all so esoteric."

Jane laughed nodded. "I know that now that they introduced us to normal people."

"Oh, we are not normal Jane, we would never want to be that! But we are relaxed," Apolline laughed.

Jane turned as she saw something out the corner of her eye and saw Hermione, Cedric and Fleur float past on a carpet. "So that's how you do it without a chair lift," she said to herself earning confused a confused look from one and an amused look from the other magical person with her.

"Chair lift?" Amos asked.

Apolline gestured to Jane to explain.

"Well, on regular mountains there's these chairs, they're connected by cable and pylons…"

-/

Elsewhere, in Britain, thinking that Azkaban would be less protected during the Christmas period, Voldemort struck the prison with his most trusted Death Eaters to free all those imprisoned either related to his deeds, or for others. They would all prove great members of his cause, to turn the Ministry to his own bidding and control.

Walking through the dirty corridors, there were few occupied cells, only the most rabid, the most decrepit and the most dangerous remained.

Dear Bellatrix was nowhere to be found, and those that had remained were almost too mad, too deranged, too frail for most, but they could still serve a purpose for his cause.

-/

Elsewhere still and even more so, Harry Potter didn't even really know it was Christmas. He knew it was approaching, Sirius had passed him a bag of cash last time, saying 'I couldn't get you something like a broom, not sure you'd want it'. That was true, Harry had said, while it might getting around faster some of the time, it wasn't very inconspicuous.

He'd decided to stop, while there was nothing around him and have a little break, for maybe Christmas or whenever it was. He knew he'd get to the Euphrates in a few days or more, and then he'd work out where he was going from there.

-/

_A/N: _

_I've deliberately spelt "snow-board" with a hyphen when it's wizards talking / thinking about it as it's not something, I don't think is old enough to be in the wizarding zeitgeist._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 08**

He still missed his friends, Harry found himself admitting, not for the first time. Well, he missed Hermione.

Ron, he still thought over the events of his name coming out of the cup. The shock he'd seen of everyone's faces. Even _Malfoy_ had looked shocked and surprised by it, but Ron…it was his reaction that Harry felt was burnt into his mind.

His friend.

Even now more than a year on from the events, remembering when his name came out, it still hurt, that lack of support. He did wonder sometimes if his friend had been there for him, would he have stayed…and what might've happened?

Harry had tried to resolve to not think about it too much more. Ron had signalled that with his endorsement of the death warrant. Harry needed to too, stop ruminating on it and Ron, he was free, had his freedom from both.

He'd arrived first in Rawa it was on the Euphrates, the river he'd been heading for as a landmark to aim for. Apparently he was in Iraq, which he knew nothing about, except that there'd been a few wars around here.

He'd swiftly discovered from the few wizards he'd encountered there was a more major wizarding settlement down the river in Heet.

He was glad there was a market where he could buy some somewhat warmer clothing, he'd taken to wearing more layers, but still, as winter had rolled on and he'd travelled northwards that the chill had started to come in.

Now he sat at a cafe within the small magical area set amongst small fruit trees nearest to the river and looked across at what might've been called a post office. There were a few owls and other birds offering delivery around the world. The prices were not cheap, but it proclaimed that they were reliable. None of it was in English, he'd in fact not spoken a word of English since he'd met Sirius.

He wondered if he sent a letter to Hermione, if that would make him feel better, whether that would warm him from the loneliness.

Wrapping his hands around the cup of tea he sipped the hot liquid, enjoying the warming feeling it gave as it slipped down his throat and took another bite out of the pastry he'd purchased. It was a little bit of an indulgence, he could get a good quantity of potion ingredients, or food for some time's travel with the same amount. But he felt that he wanted a little bit of a treat while he decided where he would go next.

-/

Harry handed the man the postcard to be delivered, he'd decided that the expense of a wizarding post letter didn't justify the cost, instead had bought a cheap postcard. The man warned him it could take a few weeks to reach its destination. Harry shrugged, saying to the man; it didn't matter, god willing it would reach its destination within the right amount of time.

-/

Severus Snape was pushed by the weight of spells and the Dark Lord's anger against the wall.

The pain was whiting out his vision.

Then others, others within the Dark Lord's circle flung their own spells at him, further whiting out his vision, his senses, even the sense of gravity seemingly disappearing with the pain and flurry of intensity of the spells, he could just about feel the stabbing of the wall, its feeling of bracing holding him up against the onslaught of spells. Or perhaps that was the pain from the spells? He could barely even breathe from the assault.

He knew it was a mistake to resume spying for the Order, but Dumbledore had been insistent that they have a man within his circle. Especially as the circle of Death Eaters had become so fragmented. The raid on the Azkaban over Christmas had revealed the holes in the Dark Lord's planning. The Ministry, amazingly had heard Black's concerns and moved the majority of the prison population, only the really decrepit had been left, and even the most prominent witches and wizards who'd favoured the Dark Lord had also been moved, and the Dark Lord had known nothing of it.

The Dark Lord had destroyed Azkaban as he'd departed. The Ministry had sold it in the media as their doing 'the destruction of Azkaban has removed a stain on the Ministry's past, moving forward the Ministry is developing a fairer judicial and prosecution system in line with the International Confederation's guidelines'.

The Dark Lord had ranted at him and others within his circle about this. He'd also ranted at the failure of the Ministry to locate Potter.

Severus felt the spells let up for a moment as he dragged his spasming hand to his wand. The wall he had been pushed against was not a solid stone wall; the meeting taking place in a barn or some such, converted by muggles who'd resided here. He did not wish to consider what had become of them.

"Now, Severus, we must decide what is to become of you, we cannot continue to have a spy, even one so useful within us can we?" He, the Dark Lord. Voldemort, was saying as he paced back and forth, his long robes hanging off his lithe sickly figure. Severus could tell from the way some of the Death Eaters looked at the Dark Lord, even those who didn't remove their masks, their body language gave them away, even they were wary and distrustful of this figure who proclaimed to be the most powerful out of then all here. All the while they levelled their wands at him; a traitor to their cause. Ready to begin again with their punishments.

"Perhaps I should place your head on a pike, deliver it to the Ministry?" He wondered as he adopted a stance, ready to cast.

Severus gritted his teeth and aimed his wand backwards at the wall and prepared himself for the explosion of wood and other materials that would follow.

-/

Severus Snape lay unconscious.

She had protested that he needed to be in St Mungo's but the headmaster had said he wanted him safe, just in case Voldemort could infiltrate the Ministry or St Mungo's.

"Leave headmaster, I will call you when he is properly conscious," she said in a firm tone at the headmaster hovering near the door to the private suite.

"Of course Poppy, of course," he said departing quickly.

She surveyed the wood, metal and some muggle materials that she had removed from Severus' body and treated the worst of the splinching injuries. He would have been in immense pain just to have apparated with these injuries. She had sedated him with more of a vapour that he himself had brewed for her. It was kept in a solid waxy form until it was needed, and was unlike anything she had seen or read about.

Now that Harry Potter was no longer at Hogwarts she'd only only needed to use it for the most grievous of Quidditch injuries.

-/

_"He knows…I'm spy." _

With those words Albus knew he would need to accelerate his discoveries concerning the horcruxes, and he would need to find and speak with Harry. Events were moving at a rate he had not planned for.

-/

Sirius woke up, he'd fallen asleep in his chair with less than half a bottle of firewhiskey beside him.

It had been a full bottle when he'd begun.

He knew he couldn't, shouldn't keep going like this.

It didn't stop him from doing it.

He didn't drink when he was out talking, or meeting with the Ministry. Just a drink here and there, one or two with lunch, a couple to finish the night, and a nightcap to help him sleep.

Stumbling up he wished, again that he had a house elf.

The rooms he had here were maintained by a squib company. He didn't need a house elf to cook for him, he could do it, if he needed to. A meal to go with the firewhiskey.

There were plenty of places to go out anyways. He could have the firewiskey as a dessert.

As he made his way towards the bedroom something golden caught his eye and he turned around slowly.

Fawkes was sat on the opposite chair.

"Were...were you always there?" He asked in a husky croak.

It gave him a look.

He shook his head. Whatever it was could wait until he was washed and in a new set of clothes.

-/

Sirius Black stepped out of the floo.

"I don't know where Harry is," he said before he sat down opposite the headmaster.

"Severus has been discovered as a spy," Dumbledore countered in a solemn tone.

Sirius nodded. He'd been to a few of the Order's meetings, but as they were held in the hole that was Grimmauld Place he'd not remained for long. He knew enough about what they were up to, and enough that he knew they weren't going to ask him to do anything.

Apparently some had said the work he was doing was helping keep vulnerable witches and wizards out of Voldemort's hands.

"That won't sway me to tell you where he is, I don't know," Sirius said honestly.

"Surely Sirius this situation has escalated," Dumbledore began.

Sirius shook his head. "Harry calls me, he's called me twice from different locations around the Middle East, I couldn't guess where he is."

"Has he asked for anything Sirius, Harry's life may hang in the balance," Dumbledore asked.

Sirius held his tongue on how Harry's life might've been on the line in the Tournament. Dumbledore hadn't explained everything, but he knew there was something, Dumbledore had inferred the presence of a 'something of great sway' involving Harry. If that was the case he was happy for Harry to continue to run from it. If he was in Harry's position he would. "Harry's life? Or our fates?"

Dumbledore looked at him. "The next time he contacts you-"

"I'll meet, he can decide then, I won't betray my godson," Sirius interrupted immediately.

Dumbledore nodded, resigned to the situation, and not arguing to try and voice further options he might wish Sirius to pursue.

-/

Severus opened his eyes. Sirius Black was standing in the room.

"Dumbledore told me you'd be injured," he said in a short tone.

"That would be evident Black," he said in a soft dull tone, the affects of the multiple healing potions he had been given…including one _commercially_ brewed one. It left a bad metallic taste in his mouth, but he was in too much pain to care to voice his displeasure.

"Don't let him bully you into doing anything more, it's not worth it," Black said and then walked out.

As Severus was left in the quiet room and slipped slowly into unconsciousness again he wondered if he had imagined Black or he'd actually been visited by him.

-/

Harry'd awoken up with a headache, he knew it was a mistake hitching a lift along the Euphrates on a boat.

It had been a weird splitting headache sort of pain that disappeared after a while.

He'd decided not to go directly north, that would have brought him close to Turkey, while not on his list of countries not to go, it did have a border with a country that was.

So he'd decided to head south for now, towards the Persian Gulf, from there he'd find a way north again.

-/

It was early afternoon and she had a few hours break before her next classes; the benefit of additional study outside of normal classes.

She'd take the opportunity for some afternoon tea and a book, _not_ related to classes. Fleur had said 'you need some time to stop and relax your mind Hermione'. So it was a book not related to classes. But it wasn't in English, nor was it in French so it was still challenging. Now apparently was the time to learn other languages so her parents said. Learn as many different things as you could, you'll pick them up faster than when you're old.

Cedric had picked up snowboarding quicker than she'd established her flying skills, so it was evident that it worked she admitted.

Then Hedwig flew down, a largish letter in her claws, she dropped if before flying off to Beauxbatons' owlery.

The envelope was larger than the ones her parents usually used. She had Hedwig usually staying with them. With her father's 'other' business providing bespoke muggle-style dentistry to witches and wizards for whom healers had failed them, Hedwig had been getting more flying time for that than her. Plus she could use one of the school kites or owls if need be and her parents were more likely to send her a letter than the opposite.

Inside was a letter and a second firmer letter.

She opened the letter first.

_This arrived in the post the other day Hermione. I think it's from Harry. The text says 'Euphrates'_.

_Love Dad_

Hermione felt her chest tighten as she read the words and carefully opened the other envelope which she found contained a postcard.

The postcard had a photo of a large river with some palm trees along it and some yellow Arabic writing along the bottom of it.

Turning over the card there was her address, a stamp with more Arabic writing on it, and then next to it a wedge of text written not with a quill but with what was probably a ballpoint pen. Even as small text she recognised the writer's handwriting.

_I'm not sure why I'm writing this to you. You can't and shouldn't try to reply, she's got her orders, and I'm sure she's settled in well with you._

_The black dog mentioned you moved on from the old school, like me, we're unlikely to go back, especially with what's been written about me in the press of late. That he endorsed things, I'm still not sure how I feel, especially in light of things around vessel's challenges. I know what happened around its aftermath._

_Don't worry about me, I've gotten into some scrapes, not as bad as I did, or as we did back in the day. I also continue to learn things, at a different pace. _

_I can contact the stars if I really need some help._

_Pass this on to those you trust if you wish._

_A friend. Always._

"Harry," Hermione whispered to herself.

-/

Harry rolled out of the hammock as the magical marine craft 'rode the wave' as the boat captain said, which he'd first thought was a mistake in his translation.

But this moderately sized vessel seemed to do something like the Knight Bus. Its sails swung to be more streamlined and then it 'rode the wave', apparently you needed to be out of the way of the boom. That was why he'd woken up with a headache.

It also seemed to wake him up every time it went into and exited the 'wave'. He'd yet to find out how it did this, whether it was the wind or the water.

The river didn't (as much as he could tell) have a tide where they were.

It didn't matter, not really, he supposed as he pulled himself back into the hammock, the whole boat was rocking gently now that it was on the wave. It made a journey, which he wasn't sure how long it would take apparating take a mere week or three.

'We travel through the empty and dangerous areas, riding the wave Harry.'

The boat captain was quite amiable, and had returned Harry's payment after Harry had found the chains and cage below the deck of the boat and worked out he was a werewolf. Not out of fear, he'd offered to procure ingredients for wolfsbane.

'What is "wolfsbane"?' The captain had asked when he'd suggested it.

When he'd explained, the man had been in tears, unaware that such a potion might even exist.

He'd not said much to Harry, not about how he'd been bitten, just that he'd learnt to remove himself, keep away from most, to 'gather myself away in the quiet and be careful'.

Harry just recalled the terror in Remus' face as when he'd realised the moon and his neglected potion and everything that ensued. If he could help he'd pay for the potions himself to help this man. The captain, who only jokingly, at least Harry thought he was called himself 'Sinbad' had refused, in Basra they would stop, and then, because Harry had shown him a way out of the fear, he would take him along the Persian Gulf to Qeshm, apparently he had family there, but potion ingredients would be cheaper in Basra.

-/

Basra was…intimidating.

After so many months away from big cities, along with the isolation on the boat with the captain 'Sinbad' who always laughed when Harry addressed him as such, coming to this large city was…something of an intimidating confrontation on his senses.

He'd found the wizarding markets, tucked in between two slightly demolished buildings.

The potion ingredients were cheap enough, and of good enough, although not very high quality.

The captain had given him a large amount of money to buy ingredients for his 'wolf potion'.

Harry still shopped around to a few different suppliers, he did not want to give anyone ideas about robbing him.

He bought small amount of other ingredients with his own meagre cash as well, enough that he could brew a few more basic potions, those which had been useful to others.

On the way back to a secluded apparition location he passed a normal market and took a moment to resupply his own more mundane items.

But he didn't linger, his purchases slipped into his bag, some into some expanding bags. He felt eager to depart.

-/

"You liked Basra?" The captain asked with a laugh.

Harry had apparated back to the boat between two crates the captain had indicated he could do so to and not be observed as where the boat was moored was a shared area.

Harry just shook his head, he felt exhausted by the whole experience.

"Too much water travel young Harry, it becomes a part of you," he said. "I have cargo coming," he nodded towards the deck below.

Harry nodded. He didn't know what cargo the man transported, some of it was exceptionally boring which he'd helped with, the other stuff that was when he was asked to remain in his cabin, it was enough of a trade-off. But it was making him itchy to continue his travel on his own, in control of his of where and how he travelled.

-/

Apparating larger distances was easier Harry reflected.

He'd managed to get from Qeshm across the strait of water back onto the mainland. Maybe it was just the time confined on the boat that had meant he wanted, no needed to stretch his apparition legs.

But he immediately felt better being able to walk and apparate long distances.

He also had some binoculars, they were old military ones left from 'the last war' the seller in Basra had said. But they would enable him to better scout and see his apparition locations, better than he had.

He knew he still wasn't confident enough to apparate by pointing his finger on a map. But he ached to travel further, especially after his time on the captain's boat.

Time enough now to travel north again he'd decided. He did not fancy continuing east, not along the sea, he'd had enough of being on the water, not in control of his journey.

-/


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 09**

The location Harry had said to meet was listed not as Lashkargah but Bost or Boost on all the apparition maps and on the portkey destination maps he'd seen.

He wanted to ask Harry _why_ he chose such hard to get to locations.

He didn't know what to get Harry for his sixteenth birthday. What did someone get their godson who had spent over two years wandering around the Middle East? Aside from a portkey away to somewhere nicer, something Harry had said he didn't want.

It wasn't as though he could give him a bottle of firewhiskey to celebrate Sirius thought with a frown as he opened up the box containing the very expensive portkeys. 'Safer to have one there and a separate one to return', the witch had said whom he'd got the portkeys from, she came recommended from his last portkey specialist, but this was further with more ancient protections to contend with so she said.

Sirius slipped a money bag into his pocket and another for Harry, it was the only thing he seemed to…it wasn't enjoy, Harry hadn't seemed to covet money, it was useful, a safety net for him.

He not so much said, not explicitly, that he had begun with nothing…because of the Dursleys. That was the crux of it, he sometimes wished he could have done more with them before the Dementors found them.

Sirius looked away from the portkeys and to his drinks cabinet, mostly containing bottles of firewhiskey, and covered the small distance and poured himself a large glass of the amber liquid.

Swallowing it he sighed, relaxing, the thought of the Dementors and what they did edging off from his memories.

Putting the glass down he looked and frowned at how much of the bottle he'd consumed, and looked back at the portkeys. It wasn't as though the location Harry had chosen was likely to contain a decent bar.

-/

It made him uneasy, walking along the path, the religious building dominating the landscape. Sirius cast a glance at the domed building. Cutting through the buildings towards his destination he tried to keep a low profile. More subdued than his previous meetings with Harry.

Making his way through the spaces selling items, he saw the establishment, as Harry had described with its light blue sign and writing in Arabic, and there Harry was, sat reading a book seemingly unconcerned by the dust and noise around him.

He still had a bag beside him, and hair was longer than it had the last time he'd seen him, roughly tied together and sitting on his chest. There was a cup and a small pot of tea on the table, he couldn't tell as he approached how long Harry had been there.

"Charming location Harry," Sirius said by way of greeting as he sat opposite Harry.

Harry looked up from his book, he didn't seem surprised.

As he settled into his chair a man came by and removed the small teapot, replacing it with a larger one and another cup.

Harry said something, perhaps a thank you, Sirius wasn't sure as the man returned inside his shop.

"This is nicer than some places I've been recently Sirius," Harry commented pouring them each some tea. "Spent a lot of time appartating across rocky, hilly areas, few people," Harry said in halting sentences, like he had to think about what to say. "I guess you'll still lament the lack of a bar?" He asked in a more natural tone, slightly amused too.

"I was going to say happy birthday," Sirius paused. "And a pity we can't toast."

Harry nodded. "I thought you'd like to see me for my birthday," he paused and pushed his hair he'd tied together off his chest over his shoulder onto to his back.

"Going to cut that off to celebrate?" Sirius joked.

Harry shook his head. Pulling it into a bun had only worked for so long, he liked keeping it long. Long enough at the front it covered the scar and at the back because…he could. "I've only needed to account for myself Sirius," Harry smiled. "I like the independent look, the look of a…"

Sirius gave him a puzzled look as he tried to wrap his tongue around what Harry had just said.

"A wanderer, or maybe a lost one," Harry explained. "I kind of like it."

"Even if it is _lonely_? I remember being on the run Harry," Sirius mused in a sad tone and shook his head. "I didn't mean to be so solemn Harry," he said reaching for his tea, wincing as he sipped it and realising how strong it was.

Harry shook his head. "Don't worry, I'm here Sirius, the loneliness I have…" Harry trailed off in thought. "I have gotten to know it, embraced it, and got to meet lots of people. Few have been judgmental of my lifestyle, few have turned as some others in the past have," Harry let the statement hang and took a hold of his own mug sipping it caught in his own thoughts, and then caught Sirius watching him, worried. "I realised several months ago, this is my life Sirius. I caught a ride on a boat and being trapped on it for a few weeks, it was terrible, being beholden to another's journey, another path."

This seemed to worry Sirius more because he breathed in deep before he spoke again. "Dumbledore asked me, the next time I saw you, he wants to speak with you."

Harry looked at him surprised. "To what Sirius? Explain and withdraw his support of the death warrant he endorsed? To apologise perhaps? For the Tournament?"

Sirius shook his head. "No Harry, something else, something…I don't know what exactly. To do with Voldemort. Snape has been spying for the Order of the Phoenix," Sirius paused in his explanations. "He was caught recently, injured badly, almost felt bad for him," Sirius finished with a wrinkle of his nose.

"What if I say no Sirius?" Harry asked as he poured more tea into his mug. "What if I say you and I will only speak over the phone, and we never meet again?" Harry did not say what he thought concerning trust.

Sirius watched him, some worry in his eyes. "I haven't been spying on you to Dumbledore Harry," he implored honestly.

Harry leaned back into his chair. He'd learnt enough, enough thus far about meeting places, dangerous places and places that held power…and minimised the power of a wizard. It was quite a tantalising thought. To get some answers. But considering said wizard had offered none the last time he had come asking, why would he now?

"I didn't think you had," Harry lied. "I just think back sometimes, think how much a friend Ron was, how much my house rallied around me in previous years, with everything that happened. Then…" he trailed off, thinking. "I'll find somewhere to meet Albus Dumbledore then," Harry smiled sadly. "I don't think I will be calling him _headmaster_ Sirius, I'm not sure I would want to return there, even if I could, now that I've had time, and space away from it."

Sirius nodded, he smiled, but it didn't seem to reach his eyes.

-/

He didn't rush to find a location for his meeting with Dumbledore. He promised he'd call Sirius when he found a location, and after Sirius had departed, Harry remained in Lashkargah for a few weeks, just to see…just to see and keep an ear to the ground to see if a wizard with a long white beard made his way into the city, or to the tea house where he'd been with Sirius.

No one had shown up, so he'd sought out somewhere to have his meeting from those wizards he'd met around the here. Some hadn't wanted his assistance, in potion making or whatever, just a story, of how he came to be here, and why he would want somewhere so protected.

It certainly tested his Arabic to explain all of that, if he was honest he would have preferred doing labour or brewing potions than drawing upon his language skills thus far to explain what and how led him here, the longer story of it.

But it had led to more revelations, much humour and interest in him and his meeting, the journey of travel and…life he supposed.

He'd needed to go further north. Sat between an ancient ruin and a mosque was a small well, with a tree shading most of it. It was beginning to lose its leaves at the moment.

There were chairs and tables sat beneath it, and as he discovered with some surprise and delight he couldn't perform any magic here.

The tree stood in the confluence of locations, just positioned in the right place, overseen, albeit from some distance by another mosque.

Feeling the tree, it felt ancient, even if it was looking a little scraggly at the moment. Which considering the chill in the air was probably helpful.

Harry resolved to source a few things, tea things to make his meeting with Albus Dumbledore seem homely, at least a little bit, for him at the very least.

-/

He'd scouted out the area, just in case he needed to do a runner, and he would have to run, he'd tested it, no spells could be fired around here, but there was a region where you could perform magic. But here it was a very small field of nothing.

But it was enough.

Harry adjusted the tea kettle on its warmer. He had two mugs ready, although wondered if Dumbledore would drink any of it, especially if he couldn't check to see if Harry had poisoned it. He wasn't sure he'd know where to start, not that he wanted to, he'd never wanted anyone's deaths.

Then he saw it, some movement on the side street, a man in long robes, not like the locals here. This man had long robes with a subdued purple tone and pale stars on them, like it had gone through the wash too many times. He bore a quizzical expression on his face as he approached.

He seemed to have tucked his wand up one sleeve.

Likely having failed to cast about as he'd approached, his wizarding spell crafting useless here.

Harry gestured the opposite chair without speaking as Dumbledore approached.

"You're looking well Harry," he said as he took the offered chair and drew his wand, gesturing at the tea kettle and mugs.

Harry wasn't sure if he was summoning them or checking them, he didn't say anything, and nothing happened.

He looked at Harry with some surprise. "Those instructing you have taught you well my boy."

Harry shook his head. "This place is nullified, the properties of these" Harry gestured around him. "Impart on the landscape," Harry paused. "Nothing to do with me," he finished as he reached forward and poured the rich brown liquid into two mugs.

Dumbledore reached for his first, breathing in the steam from the mug. "Ah, such a robust brew," he said putting down the mug having not even wetted his lips.

"For someone who escaped a potentially lethal Tournament, skipped out on a magical contract and had a death warrant issued against me, I'm quite well," Harry commented dryly as he took his own mug, sipping the hot liquid carefully as he watched the older man before him.

Dumbledore at least had the courtesy of looking a uncomfortable. "That was unfortunate. But it was something you should not have done Harry."

Harry put the mug back down. "If I had remained, or even had I returned, would you have forced me to participate in the Tournament?" Harry asked watching for his reactions.

Dumbledore remained silent, he merely stared into the mugs on the table not meeting Harry's gaze.

"Contracts exist in the magical world Harry," Dumbledore stated after a long moment's pause.

"Even ones you don't agree to? What sort of legal system is that?" Harry questioned.

"A better one than exists here Harry," Dumbledore almost snapped in a bristly tone.

Harry smiled and relaxed into the chair, watching him. "I've travelled several places and a few countries, the rule of law is quite brutal, and also often quite non-existent, but these places usually have some sense to them and their spaces," he paused to take another sip of his tea. "I could have been the spare dead in the cemetery, instead of Krum," Harry said quoting what Sirius had explained about the events in the cemetery, what had been said and what Cedric had heard.

"That would not have happened Harry," Dumbledore said softly.

"It wouldn't have?" Harry pressed. "Perhaps then Cedric would have been the one dead there?" He pressed. "Or was I meant to have ended up facing Voldemort alone?" He continued. "No need to kill the spare, just me?" He watched Dumbledore who tried to avert his gaze. Harry continued with his questions, questions that had been brewing within him for sometime. "Even if I had failed every task, if I'd just refused to participate, I would still have needed to have completed the Tournament, correct?"

Dumbledore remained silent for some time before nodding.

"And whoever was orchestrating the Tournament would have ensured I was placed with that cup, without it seeming too obvious of course, it wouldn't have done to be prepared," Harry commented cynically.

"The outcome of the Tournament is not what I have come to speak with you today Harry," Dumbledore interjected in Harry's dialogue.

Harry shrugged as he reached forward for his mug again. He had waited more than two years to ask these questions. Sirius had provided him all the basic information fo what had happened, but not the hypotheticals that made him pause and think at night. "Sirius said Snape's been exposed as your spy, and you're worried," Harry watched him. "Now you've decided you need to speak to me."

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore added needlessly.

"I haven't been at Hogwarts for more than two years _Headmaster_," Harry commented in a sarcastic tone that he very rarely used outside of his own internal monologue. In fact this was the longest conversation he'd had in English since meeting Sirius, and that wasn't too much of a lengthy conversation. "I don't think you're in any position to ask me to use terms like 'professor'," Harry paused to calm his angry tone and looked at Dumbledore carefully. "You endorsed the death warrant."

Dumbledore looked at him. "A mere formality Harry, it was imperative for you to return, I mistakenly thought that would hasten the investigation."

"Hasten the return of a fugitive of the Ministry?" Harry pondered.

"You may well be pardoned Harry, as Sirius was," Dumbledore commented carefully, it sounded somewhat like a threat.

"Well?" Harry asked as he poured himself another cup of tea, Dumbledore he noted had not drunk any of his.

"May we go somewhere less open Harry?" Dumbledore asked looking around them.

Harry shook his head. "We are secluded enough here. I am sure you saw the dome of the mosque," Harry fixed him with a look. "I will not go anywhere else Albus Dumbledore, you can speak here, or" Harry gave a large shrug. "I will leave, and contact Sirius again whenever."

Dumbledore seemed to hesitate.

Harry stood up. "Give _Severus_ my best," he fixed him with a look. "It hasn't been pleasant."

"Harry, stop," Dumbledore said in a panicked tone.

Harry sat back into his chair and tilted his head inquiring, but not saying anything.

Dumbledore looked at him for a moment, seemingly collecting his thoughts and then sighed "It concerns a prophecy and what Voldemort has done to prolong his life."

-/

Harry picked up his mug as Dumbledore finished speaking and then put it back down, looking at him casually. "I feel as though I want to say, that this…" Harry trailed off "…this problem is yours."

Dumbledore looked at him with wide eyes. "Harry, a prophecy is not something to be walked away from."

"That is what they cautioned me about when I ran away from the contract," Harry countered.

"That is different," Dumbledore said in a short tone.

Harry breathed in a deep breath tasting the afternoon's breeze on his tongue and sighed. "And if I say no?"

"I could force you to return Harry," Dumbledore said in the same tone as Harry had imagined when he'd read of the death warrant against him.

It made a chill pass down his back, but he forced himself to remain calm in the face of Albus Dumbledore who in this situation had whatever strength whatever age person he was, and nothing more.

Harry was pretty sure he could outrun the man. He was fairly certain he had better knowledge of the area. The mosque would offer easy sanctuary should he need it, the ruins too held their own protections. He forced himself to laugh. "Not likely," he looked to the mugs. "You can't even float a tea cup," he looked around. "I could run off and disappear," he fixed Dumbledore with a look. "I did it from Hogwarts, I could be sailing down the Gulf of Oman and out into the Arabian Sea off to parts unknown," he paused. "Away from your tales of prophecy and horcruxes." It was a lie, he wasn't sure if he'd get on another boat for a lengthy amount of time, he enjoyed leading his own travel.

Dumbledore looked shocked at him. "Harry, what of your friends?"

"The one who endorsed the Ministry's warrant or the one you threatened with expulsion unless she revealed information she didn't know?" Harry countered.

"An unfortunate turn of events," Dumbledore said simply.

There extended a long silence as Harry thought over what Dumbledore had said.

"I wonder why you trekked out here," Harry mused watching the older man. "Why I couldn't just be left to be," he paused.

Dumbledore wasn't Ron, but that didn't make him less terrible, just a different sort awful. He also wasn't sure if he could believe him.

"I won't help you with your quest for these splinters of souls," Harry said firmly after some time of quiet consideration. "Send your lackeys, the Order Sirius has talked about, or whoever," Harry paused and shook his head as Dumbledore seemed to sit up and want to speak. "Why would I have any more success than you would, being the leader of the Order?" Harry watched Dumbledore carefully.

"I'm not going to rush off on a quest just because you vaguely proclaim something, from the way you have explained, the prophecy mentions nothing of these soul fragments," Harry asked in a wondering tone. "You'll have to to your best," Harry finished.

Dumbledore looked at him, perhaps mulling the phrasing of his sentence. "What of the prophecy then Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry watched the older man. "You and the Minister said I 'abandoned my duties to wizarding life'," Harry quoted.

"That was…unfortunate turn of phrase," Dumbledore admitted.

Harry rose from his chair, holding his tongue as much as he wished to comment on how many times Dumbledore said 'unfortunate'.

"I'll consider the prophecy, when the time is right I guess," he let out another sigh and shook his head.

"Harry, how might I contact you?" Dumbledore began as Harry walked away from him.

"You won't," Harry paused in thought. "Give me a time frame."

"Once a week?" Dumbledore asked hopefully as he rose from the table to follow Harry.

"In a few months then," Harry called as he rushed away.

"No, Harry," Dumbledore walked quickly to follow Harry as he disappeared around a corner of one of the buildings.

There was nothing but dust and sand.

-/

Albus cast around with his wand, here away from the chairs he could use his wand, albeit in a reduced way. He gazed around and looked at the religious building, he felt a nervous energy from it, an energy that it seemed had not prevented Harry from apparating speedily away from him.

Casting around in a wide arc he couldn't detect any evidence of his apparition, however there were no footprints and there were no doorways or alcoves that he could have disappeared into.

Returning his wand to his robes he looked around once more before returning to the path he had trodden to reach this location and find the secluded spot he had apparated to in order to depart again.

-/

A moment later Harry stepped out of the alcove, ending the spell occluding it and him from anyone who might be gazing around and walked off in the opposite direction to his former headmaster. Pleased that Dumbledore had not seen through his spell.

-/

He'd given away a lot of his warmer weather clothes, as he ventured further north into Afghanistan, he'd also picked up some books on Slavic languages, although looking at them he knew that Cyrillic was going to give him as many problems as Arabic had.

He wasn't sure when he'd decided to continue to venture northwards.

Russia and its surrounding countries seemed like an interesting place to head for, they also didn't have any extradition treaties with Britain, which was good for him.

Right now he was trying not to shiver as he shopped for more colder weather clothes than he had been wearing. That was the problem with apparating bigger distances, and warming charms. The seemingly sudden drop in temperature was huge now that the end of the year was approaching.

-/

Hermione trepidatiously waited for the phone to ring, she'd earlier been at Cedric's house practising flying with him and the twins after last year with the Delacours this year Cedric remained at home, from his letters he was still unsure, now that he had completed his schooling at Hogwarts what he might do progressing forward.

But had invited her round nonetheless for Christmas, so she could take advantage of his parents' library over the Christmas break. The twins had come round too, Fred and George had jumped on her idea for a 'tow hook' to take advantage of the recent huge snowfall that had dumped an unusual volume of snow over Britain this year. She was less certain about being on skis, so preferred to fly and watch out for Cedric and the twins.

Then while they were trialling the tow hook the twins had fashioned she'd been summoned back home.

Harry had called.

-/

The phone rang, making her jump.

"Yes, I accept the charges," her dad said and handed the phone to her.

_"Hello old friend, it's been a while,"_ Harry's voice sounded different, older.

"Harry, I…" she started and found she was at a loss for words. "I…" she started again.

Harry laughed.

"I got your postcard," she finally said.

He laughed again. _"I almost forked out an excessive amount of money to send a wizarding-post letter."_

"You should have, I could have replied, you, you just up and left Harry," she burbled.

Harry sighed. _"After the dangers of the Tournament…I'm sorry you were forced from-"_

She cut him off. "Dumbledore tried to blackmail me Harry. I've friends, people who respect me and my ideas and a group of international friends and associations at Beauxbatons, much more so than had I stayed at Hogwarts. Don't you start apologising for anything Harry. What Dumbledore did was all him, you've got nothing to apologise about."

_"Okay Hermione, relax,"_ Harry said down the line. _"I should go, I just wanted to call and say hi. I'm not sure when I might be able to again, be able to catch you at home I mean."_

"You could write, if you'd taken your owl with you," she chastised.

"_That would have made it easier, I…I like this Hermione, even if I am…freezing my tits off,"_ he said, seemingly failing to come up with words. It was only now Hermione realised it was what she sometimes sounded like, and that Harry had the same, yet different odd accent to his words.

"You've learnt to speak another language haven't you? Good on you Harry," she praised.

Harry laughed. _"Of course! You can't go around talking loudly and gesturing at people, that's what Sirius tried to do when he first met me out here,"_ he paused. _"Say sorry to your dad for such a long call. Hopefully at the end of all this we can have a proper chat, bye."_

Then the line went dead.

Hermione wiped her eyes, she didn't realise how emotional it was to hear Harry's voice after more than two years.

"Did he say where he was?" Her dad asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Just that he's freezing his tits off," Hermione looked to him. "You think he's moved on from the Middle East?"

Her dad mused on this information. "The Middle East is large and it does get cold around a lot of parts."

-/

Harry shoved his hands into the sheepskin coat he'd purchased, it helped ward off pretty much all of Baghlan's chills. It was worn in places and only had two huge pockets on the front. But it felt more 'him' than the various ex-military coats and jackets that filled the shops and markets that he'd scoured for clothing.

He'd also found some indications that there was a wizarding population of some sort around here.

He'd grown used to looking for the signs of magic, or potions or something, some signs that there might be witches or wizards who might want assistance, or to trade for his abilities or skills, such as they were.

Sometimes it was a market stall with something magical on it, sometimes it was a bit of graffiti on walls pointing to a location, sometimes it was just a feeling that guided someone who could feel or detect that 'otherness' to a location.

Here though the signs seemed to point out of town towards a small encampment, with a few tents and a handful of more permanent storage buildings.

He walked up, their wary gazes on him, as he held his wand out in an open manner he saw their expressions relax.

They were mostly travelling mages, who'd bedded down here, and were happy to trade, chat and discuss.

He always admitted he wasn't the best potion brewer, but showed them samples of what he had, and if they were willing he could brew them what he had, or be instructed by them, if they wished.

These mages, like many he'd met freely accepted his offer, many he'd learnt purchased potions rather than brewing themselves, or sold a small selection of raw ingredients. It was the rarer ones they sold, or they plied their more rarified spells and knowledge that people around these parts never learnt.

He had learnt that for a lot of magical people, places like Hogwarts or the other European schools were a luxury that they couldn't afford to take up, it was down to the local communities to educate, and sometimes that was lost to conflict or other things.

It was a harsh way to live.

He tried to help where he could, learn and give away and try to help as he passed through.

Almost everyone he met was willing to teach him something, and those who weren't…he'd learnt valuable lessons regardless.

These mages cautioned him travelling further north, the weather and everything would only get worse and colder, head south they said.

Harry laughed at their suggestions - that's where he'd come from. He wasn't ready to go backwards just yet, he'd started trying to work out Russian in any case.

-/

Severus looked up, Albus was lingering in the doorway. "If you've come to plead your case again, I will not 'try my contacts' again Albus," he paused to invoke Poppy's name. "Poppy-" he was cut off.

"I am aware of what Poppy said Severus. Without your presence within Voldemort's inner circle we have no means of knowing what his movements will be," the older man commented.

Severus looked back to the potion he was brewing. It was a stronger version of one prescribed to Diggory following his encounter with the Dark Lord's followers. Their skills with the Cruciatus seemed to have improved vastly. Despite the length of time that had passed since his abrupt exit from their circle he still had twitches of pain. Not just twitches, sometimes, bending down to pick up a canister of ingredients he'd feel like he was pulling a muscle, then the pain would spread slowly. And then he would be sat in a chair, sweat pouring down his face as he tried not to black out.

He had not told anyone of this, he suspected Poppy knew, but had assured him his health was only between the two of them. She didn't even keep any notes.

Good.

In a way he admired Potter's callous pondering that Albus related to him after his meeting with Potter.

As Albus related, Potter had suggested that it was their problem, Potter had quite rightly surmised that he had remained away from the wizarding Britain for two years. Managed not to get himself killed, yet was still drawn back into events beyond his control.

While a simplistic reading of the situation, Potter had shown some intelligence, if not much forethought concerning the Tournament. Leaving had ensured his safety.

"Then perhaps you should find another 'lackey' as Potter put it to infiltrate _his_ inner circle?" Severus quoted with a sneer.

"Severus, I am surprised, quoting Harry?" The old man chuckled, clearly amused, but at least he departed the doorway.

-/

_A/N:_

_The encounter Harry has with Dumbledore is largely the same as Extradition Challenges, except I've mostly rewritten it. Much of the dialogue is the same, because I still quite like the dialogue. But the reactions are different, the tone is different and it's paced in a different way. _


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

It was fortuitous, that after most of the mages had failed to convince him that going south was best for the the colder months that one had suggested where he currently resided; Qarshi.

He'd crossed another border into another country - Uzbekistan, and all without a passport, or any muggle means of transportation.

It was more north than some of the cities he'd seen on some maps, but the benefit here, he'd been told was there was a wizarding population, specialising in magical carpets and other associated items.

He knew he couldn't continue north, not with the temperature and weather turning from 'quite chilly' to freezing quite quickly. So he decided to look around to see if there was anything that might provide for him, utilising his skills he had thus far.

After a short interview, in a mixture of Arabic, English, Russian and what he discovered later was Uzbek he was granted a job.

Harry had to admit, he'd never really thought about how wizarding fabric was made, or brooms, or anything else to do with wizarding life. He'd seen behind the curtain of potion ingredient sales, which hadn't been much of a surprise.

Here, he was the sole person for the three days he worked a week in this large room. A large metal fan above him slowly rotated drawing the potion fumes away from him.

There were large containers of ingredients and larger still cauldrons, they made him feel like a fairy tale wizard standing over a huge cauldron brewing potions, albeit in a somewhat grim factory.

The potions weren't too complicated, three to assist lift on the carpets or fix in stabilisation fabrics and other such related things.

The other potion seemed to be a side project for the witches managing the operation, it was a general purpose healing potion, it appeared to be a mix of dittany and murlap along with a few other things, he made that in smaller cauldrons on his third day.

The other four days he had off, which meant he could explore the area and season he now found himself in; interesting and cold.

Or spend it learning, practising his language skills and exploring.

Also plotting where to go next.

And, of course wandering and worrying about what the future would hold.

There was that prophecy, which he still wasn't sure he believed.

And even if he did, did he owe it as a fugitive to face Voldemort for the sake of the British wizarding world?

He'd still not decided.

But he also hadn't apparated off to Asia.

-/

Amos pulled off the cloak he'd been instructed to wear as he sat down in his office, weary from presiding over cases.

The Ministry had decided in its wisdom that to get through the mammoth 'reassessments' that other departments would be roped in to oversee and ensure 'justice was performed properly'.

It had been voluntary, but strongly suggested that everyone participate.

It did involve a significant pay rise, but he could see, even after only a few weeks why so many didn't continue.

It was enough for the Minister that some did a day, then he could go and parade to the media how much attention he was giving the problem.

A hot meal had been left with a warming charm over it waiting for him.

He didn't really feel like food at the moment, not after listening again to the horrendous conditions in Azkaban and the terrible effects on a witch whose crime had been to make wolfsbane for a community around her home. She had not been a licensed potions maker, and she had not alerted the Ministry that werewolves were living there. She was meant to have been held for 3 months. It seemed an error in the Ministry's paperwork sentenced her to 3 years, she was 2 years in when this investigation had begun.

The Ministry, prompted by 'anonymous tip offs' had also seized her assets and exiled those werewolves they had found.

It was a nightmare, and this was one of the least worst of them.

Yet, he hadn't given up. These people deserved some form of justice, real justice.

Just as he was pondering whether a cup of tea might be better for now there was a knock on his door.

"Come in," he answered in a tired tone.

Amelia Bones stepped in. "Amos," she said with a smile as he gestured at the chair opposite.

He'd shared a table with Amelia several times when looking over these cases.

"You look tired, you're still at it?"

He nodded.

"Good man," she smiled briefly. "I wanted to see you to talk to you, I wanted to know how you feel about the government," she asked with little preamble.

"The government?" He shook his head. "Terrible at the moment," he paused. "I thought about quitting a while ago after what happened with my son at Hogwarts, even thought about taking him out of that place."

"To Durmstrang or Beauxbatons?" Amelia asked curiously.

He nodded. "A friend of his, a muggle-born, she…" he sighed. "The headmaster tried to blackmail her," he gave her a look. "She wasn't having any of it, up and left to Beauxbatons," he laughed.

Amelia nodded. "I recall, the Minister wanted to know how a muggle train was able to travel to Hogwarts."

"It's a train line, we just use it," he said. "Ced wanted to stay, finish at Hogwarts, Hermione was less married to being there, she's excelled," he said then added "I gather." Amos tried to keep his personal life, and those connected with him outside of the Ministry's gaze.

"Challenging, changing schools and in another language," Amelia mused. "You decided to remain though…?"

Amos nodded with a sigh. "Couldn't think what to do outside of all of this."

Amelia nodded. "I don't want to take up too much of your time Amos, I just wanted to chat."

"About?" He looked to her curiously. "Should I make a pot of tea?"

Amelia shook her head. "I'm sure you've noticed the unstableness of the Minister, and the reports concerning Voldemort."

Amos nodded, as much as the Minister tried to keep it out of the media, the reports were leaking out. The Ministry barely had a lid on the Z Noticed Tournament, but now more things, more reports of Death Eaters were leaking out, and every time they did the Minister seemed to want to go on the wireless to talk about what 'an excellent job the Ministry is doing keeping everyone safe'. He'd seen him in the corridors of the Ministry sometimes, muttering to himself. "Some say he's pretty unstable some of the time, goes and sees Dumbledore then he's fine for the most part."

"Until the next crisis," Amelia said as she removed her wand casting around.

Amos recognised the spell, he did the same every morning and said so. He even had a sneakascope sitting on his desk.

"I intend to challenge the Minister for his position. By the new year I want to have a new government overseeing things, we need to be prepared for what is coming Amos. The Ministry did not fare well in the last conflict, and considering what occurred in the graveyard and how Voldemort returned, this conflict will likely be as bad, worse possibly."

Amos watched her. "And what do you want me to do?"

Amelia smiled. "Nothing, support my ministry when it comes to that."

"Not if?" Amos asked, though he admired her confidence. Challenging a Minister for their leadership wasn't common and usually needed extraordinary circumstances to trigger it.

She shook her head. "We need firm leadership moving forward, away from the usual power bases of the past Amos. I just wanted the make sure you weren't ready to leave."

He shook his head. "Not yet, I want to see justice for these poor souls that were in Azkaban. Voldemort at least did that for us, destroying it saved the mountains of paperwork and the arguments and counter-arguments against removing that facility," he shook his head.

Amelia agreed as she rose from her seat. "I'll let you get to your lunch, it's pot pie, particularly good this week."

-/

"No Albus, I haven't heard anything from Harry," Sirius said in a raised voice, Albus had come, again unannounced. Sirius looked out through the large panes of glass at the snow covered landscape.

It was something Moony noted when he'd visited how modern the house was. It had been renovated by a muggle-born couple, its bones were an old barn and attached chaff store.

It had a large floo in there, but the rest was quite open. The perfect mix of muggle and wizarding technologies.

After Azkaban he'd wanted something dry, warm and not enclosed. Far too many wizarding houses were pokey, claustrophobic affairs.

This house was far away from everything, all muggle services, too. Although there were some things to gather _electricity _from the sun and wind apparently.

"If I could have the contact information of your associate that Harry had the _telephone_ for then I might be better able to respond to Harry's-" Albus began.

Sirius turned around. "No Albus," Alex he trusted completely and would not be giving Alex's information to anyone and said as much. "My associate will contact me immediately if Harry calls, he hasn't," Sirius fixed Albus with a look. "Didn't you say Harry would contact you in a few months."

"I requested a week, Harry said months," Albus said in an annoyed tone.

"And your quest?" Sirius asked, he wanted to know the basics, but not everything. He didn't want to be asked to perform within the Order. He didn't want to be in the firing line. Maybe that made him a coward? He didn't know. He felt, like Harry he'd had enough. Maybe being on the run was better.

Albus sighed. "Progressing, if only I could speak with Harry more I-"

Sirius cut him off. "Why does it matter if you can see Harry? He's fine, he's lived for these past 2 years or more without any of us," he paused. "He doesn't want help, he barely uses the money I've given him, I think Albus," Sirius fixed him with a look. "he just wants to be left alone."

"Unfortunately that is a luxury we cannot afford him Sirius," Albus said in a sad tone.

Sirius looked at him cynically. "That _you_ cannot you mean."

-/

Harry didn't want to say he was sick of Qarshi, because he wasn't, but he was sick of spending his days indoors brewing potions, the same three or four potions.

He was glad that as the season inched out of cold into 'less cold' he could leave.

The past three months had earnt him a good amount of money, he'd spent it on better equipment to stay outdoors that might better protect him against the chills, especially as he intended to continue north for now.

He even had a carpet, one of the ones that had not passed their standards. The dyes had not settled properly, and to get it to fly required too much…'vim'.

It was rolled up and inside an expanding bag, he'd almost perfected those after these three months, sometimes not going out anywhere.

The carpet he would use to protect the floor of his new tent, flying held less appeal, apparating gave him a much better scope for exploration than a broom had. Much more potential freedom. Flying a broom felt like being free, but there were always boundaries.

Before he left town he'd made a call to Alex, Sirius' lady with a phone. He hadn't really wanted to pass on where he would be to Dumbledore.

And if there hadn't been the concept of Voldemort hacking away at his soul, those fragments, and the prophecy, nibbling away at his thoughts in the dead of night when he couldn't sleep, or maybe it was the nightmares of the past that woke him up after he'd gotten to sleep. Those things, those he couldn't escape from, not easily.

So he made the call, told Alex where he'd be in a week or so. Dumbledore could work out the specifics.

He'd only been out to Aydar Lake a few times on some of the sunnier days of winter, but it had been bracing, and he was sure there were some magical plants growing around the water's edge, but was a little too dicey to get near the freezing water on the days he'd been out there.

He wouldn't be protected from Dumbledore like he had at his previous meeting, but he could always shove the old man into the water and apparate away, he'd proven to himself he was a faster runner than Dumbledore.

-/

Severus hissed through his teeth and raised a hand to shield his eyes.

Until the previous week this location; Aydar Lake had just been a guide on an apparition map.

In fact not even that, the apparition map had not been updated since the turn of the century, it did not even indicate a lake. He had needed to use a _muggle_ map to double check the location.

And he had needed to check through several little-used books within the Hogwarts library to make sure there was nothing dangerous at the location.

There wasn't.

There also wasn't anything magically related here.

Except Potter.

Albus had been contacted by Black indicating that Potter had contacted him stating this is where he was.

Albus wanted him to 'asses Harry's abilities for the coming conflict Severus, he has been without teaching and guidance for more than two years, that is an unfortunate amount of time'.

That Potter was here of all the locations he could be, and surviving remained a surprise. This was the first time Albus had indicated where Potter was. Even after his meeting with Potter Albus had not said specifically _where_ he had been.

Rummaging around in the satchel he'd brought with him for some omnioclars he gazed around the landscape. Potter had not indicated where on the lake's edge he would be, so Black had said, if he was to be believed. Severus would not be surprised if Black was deliberately vague to confound matters.

He was somewhat surprised that Albus had not come himself, although he had several fires that needed putting out, and new ones always starting. Both figurative and literal.

Apparently Pomona, Lupin and the headmaster himself would be covering his classes if Potter's assessment took longer than expected. It was an irritating interruption to his students' studies. But the wizarding world had been moving through several irritating interruptions.

Minister for Magic Amelia Bones had wrested the worst of the unstable political beast under some semblance of control. If she managed not to be assassinated by Voldemort's Death Eaters they may end up with a decent leader.

That danger, that was the other reason he had agreed to Albus' request.

Even at Hogwarts, he was now a marked wizard. He could barely go to Hogsmeade, he couldn't visit Diagon Alley let alone elsewhere connected to it. There were too many targets on his back. He'd received half a dozen silent howlers since his revealing as a spy.

"There you are Potter," he said as his gaze fell on a figure. He couldn't see much more from this distance, but there was a medium-sized tent beside and possibly some fires.

Apparating across the lake Severus walked towards the figure, he was stood with his back to him stirring one of the three cauldrons.

Each was sitting over a carefully built up fire, and each had been carefully shielded from the wind with a stack of roughly chopped wood.

The tent was larger than he'd guessed and appeared to have a small chimney extended out from it, but it certainly did not have the appearance of a wizarding tent. He had one of those within his satchel. Prepared in case his assessment took longer than a few hours.

Walking over he peered into one of the unattended cauldrons. It appeared to be a form of healing potion.

"Adequate Potter," he said announcing his presence. "I see your potion making skills have improved during your sojourn escape."

"Most people around here don't even bother to apparate to a larger settlement. They make do with what they have," Potter turned from the cauldron barely acknowledging him as he walked over to one of the other cauldrons. "They can't afford the potions sold by travelling mages, if something happens…" he trailed off and said something in another language with a shrug.

"Five wizards have been injured, some grievously during the hunt for horcruxes Potter," he commented , trying to get a rise out of Potter.

Potter turned, finally facing him. His face was tanned, his hair was long and tied at the back, the front was roughly cut, but long enough to hide the scar on his face. "Would it be better if I was out hunting for these horcruxes? On a perfect little quest that Dumbledore just now decided he should reveal to me?" He asked in a cynical tone. "He's so sure destroying them will provide the end of Voldemort, yet he suggested I should destroy them." Potter walked past him to the third cauldron kicking some sand over some of the fire dampening it in a casual practiced way it showed he had made potions over open fires like this many times in the past.

"There was nothing in the prophecy that suggested that," Potter said a sentence in another language again. "Dumbledore can quest for them."

"What are you brewing Potter?" He asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Potter smiled briefly at him. "A basic healing potion, a simple bone mending potion, not as complex as skelegro and a variation of Pepperup."

"Simple and basic is less effective," he commented cooly.

"And cheaper. I found dittany and murlap growing nearby, I think it's been washed in here," Potter commented, Severus had rarely seen either fresh before. "Even if I hadn't I'd have made it similarly," Potter looked to him curiously. "Now," Potter paused as he crossed in front of him to venture towards his tent. "I'll get some tea made and your can tell me why you're here," he paused looking at him curiously. "I doubt you're Dumbledore's messenger."

-/

He'd had to transfigure his own chair, Potter only had one. Potter had also subverted all his expectations.

The years away from Hogwarts had taught him well, he was less…less like his father. Less like either parent.

Potter had brought out a tray of tea things, and then gestured from his tent to a point where a pole stood, creating a magical wind brace. All wordlessly. It was something he'd never seen before, never needed before or considered.

"The wind's a bit bracing," was all Potter said by way of explanation. "No milk or sugar, I've got honey if you need it."

Then Potter poured the rich dark tea into two battered aluminium mugs and leaned back in his chair watching as he cast some identifying spells on it.

"I wouldn't try to poison you Severus," Potter said calmly, seemingly not caring as he cast his diagnosis spells.

"You've changed Potter,' Severus finally said as he drizzled a small amount of honey into his mug.

Potter seemed surprised. "I have? Is it not just maturity that other wizards have also gone through?"

Severus found himself shaking his head, no, he thought, those of Potter's peers would not casually sit down with their professor, offer them tea and conjure, wordlessly a magical barrier against the wind, whilst watching three cauldrons. Potter might seem relaxed, but Severus could tell he was still watching the cauldrons.

"I worked for the past three months in a city some ways from here, through the worst of the winter," Potter suddenly said.

"Doing what Potter?" Severus asked curiously as he sipped the the tea, wincing at both its strength and heat.

"Potions," he gave Severus a look. "The same potions every three days," he paused. "Magical carpets and a healing potion I think they were selling on the side, it was in a massive old Soviet building, huge fume extractor fans," he paused smiling. "Despite the heat it was always a bit too cold inside."

Severus nodded, taking in this information. "The headmaster-"

Potter interjected, Severus looked at him annoyed. "I've not been at Hogwarts for more than 2 years, I doubt I'll return."

Severus looked at him. "_Dumbledore_ wished me to assess your skills."

"So I'll last long enough against him you mean?" Potter asked in the same cynical tone. "That's what it'll come down to won't it?" Potter let out a sniff. "Long enough to fulfil the prophecy," he laughed a short sarcastic laugh.

The harshness of the tone surprised Severus so much that he did not immediately respond.

-/

Harry was surprised, but didn't say it to Severus Snape, that Dumbledore had not taken the opportunity to come and proselytise to him about his role and presence in the wizarding world.

From what Severus had revealed Voldemort had been acting out more, more things were sneaking through the cracks.

He'd not tried to get a rise out of him beyond when he'd first arrived, Harry found it pleasant enough, he was the only other person aside from Sirius and Dumbledore who was from his old life that he'd met in person.

Dumbledore was supposedly propping up the Ministry during Voldemort's actions, maybe if they hadn't tried to cover up him coming back from the dead then they might have been more prepared. He didn't really know, or care, he wasn't a politician, he was the opposite of one, fugitive from them.

The next morning while he was preparing some tandir non Severus came out of his tent. Harry'd not cooked for him, though was happy to share his supplies such as they were, but Severus had indicated he had planned for a several days' worth, should it have been required.

"You look pensive Severus," Harry observed.

"This is your lifestyle Potter?" He asked. He had not enquired much on how he lived, though seemed to know something, likely informed by Dumbledore.

Harry shrugged. "Is there a rule book for how wizards should live? Sirius suggested I could be hanging out in South America," he paused muttering to himself.

"That sounds like Black," he commented as he sat down opposite him. "And why Potter did you not take up your godfather's offer?"

Severus seemed genuinely curious for an answer. "I like the freedom, I'm still learning, albeit not at the same pace at school," he sighed as he put the dough he was bringing together down. "Then, Dumbledore comes along and tells me about the prophecy, I'd decided I didn't care about going back to Britain. Then he comes along, threatens to take me back," Harry explained his voice rising.

"And how did you propose to escape his threats Potter?" Severus asked.

Harry looked at him and oddly. "He didn't explain?" He laughed. "Null location, I only needed to outrun an old man to escape his clutches, couldn't even raise a teapot."

-/

Severus couldn't help a small smile forming on his face as Potter explained his meeting with Albus. Potter was much smarter than his appearance and living conditions suggested. That Albus was a fool enough to meet Potter somewhere that magic was nullified was fool on him.

Potter had continued to surprise over the previous day. At the day's end he had offered him his food, a collection of what Severus presumed to be local foodstuffs. He had planned to cater for himself, and Potter allowed him to depart to his own tent for the evening.

Potter had a _practical_ knowledge of magic, very much so, enough to serve him, many spells he used were not taught, at Hogwarts or elsewhere. They were of the realm of not used by regular wizarding families, nor used in a professional scope, instead were somewhere in between and outside of those.

With the knowledge he had, he'd likely fail a lot of OWLs and practically achieve no NEWTs. However that wasn't the point Severus mused.

Potter had also managed to apparate around the Middle East without any visible signs of problematic splinching.

His precision with potion making was of a high standard, although his free measuring of ingredients was _not_ something he would ever advocate, or praise.

Potter had indicated his previous employment in Qarshi had produced commercial quantities of potions, mostly using mechanised means to ready ingredients for use. It was something most commercial potion makers in Britain did not do, even for the commercial quantities they produced a wand and hand approach was still maintained. It was interesting learning of such processes in between the periods of silence and concentration of both their parts.

-/

That was it, Severus indicated that the testing was over.

So he didn't die, long enough to last to fulfil the prophecy.

Whilst he'd been in Qarshi during those months of the freezing dead of winter he'd taken the opportunity that was being in a city with a mid-sized wizarding population, including a wizarding…it wasn't exactly a library, but it did have 'reciprocal agreement' from which it could source other books from, including books in English concerning prophecy.

He was relatively fluent in Arabic, and the freezing days and nights had prompted him to learn Russian, Cyrillic still giving him some problems.

But for something so important he wanted to read it in his first language.

He knew, that he couldn't live, knowing there was a prophecy hanging over his head.

Knowing that Voldemort was running around terrorising others, that was something he couldn't live ongoing, knowing about.

He might have engineered a location to meet Dumbledore once, and ensure the odds were in his favour, but…he'd already tried to blackmail Hermione and used Ron, albeit the latter was much more willing in his attempt at persuasion. Harry did not want to see where this might continue.

At least he was still meeting on his terms.

That's what he wanted, control on his terms, not being led around like a goat to the slaughter. If he had to go, then he would be walking the path, and whatever happened after the prophecy was fulfilled…that would be for him and no one else.

-/

His tent was packed up, as were all of Potter's potion making equipment. He had seen a small handful of knives, boards and other equipment for preparing ingredients over the last two days. The cauldrons were off their stands, Potter seemed to be in the middle of washing them while flasks of potion stood propped up on the sand waiting to be bottled.

"Take this, before you leave Severus," Potter handed him a rough piece of parchment.

It had a list of ingredients.

"What is it Potter?" He asked quickly looking over the ingredients.

Potter looked awkward, not for the first time in these past two days. But this time there was guilt in his expression, that was something new. "Someone I met, I trusted too easily," Potter gave him a look. "I thought I was brewing this to help someone who'd been tortured, who couldn't even hold a pencil, turns out it was the torturer who wanted him restored, and needed a potion maker to do his bidding," Potter sighed. "I've made it a couple of times more, give it away mostly, even with its expensive ingredients."

Severus didn't say anything, he hadn't said anything. He thought he remained in control of his body, and its reactions, those effects might be with him for life, but they were mostly undetectable, he had thought. There had been nothing out of control while he'd been out here, outside away from any of the dangers or threats, veiled or otherwise.

Potter didn't bid him farewell, and didn't say anything more. Just let him depart.

Severus watched Potter from the edge of his camp as he mentally prepared himself for the first hop in his long distance apparition.

Potter was not the entitled child he had thought of him at Hogwarts.

Now, having travelled and been away from the gazes of those within the British magical world, he had developed into a wizard of some capability.

Potter throughout his assessment seemed indifferent to his presence, occasionally though he seemed satisfied by the challenges. But he was not troubled by it, achievements in the academic world and the concept of OWLs or NEWTs were not something he seemed to care about 'why should I? If I survive the prophecy, then I can decide from there, if I die тогда я мертв', which he gathered meant 'then I'm dead'. It was a somewhat final attitude to the situation. All delivered in a very sarcastic-cynical tone and a shrug of the shoulders.

-/

Without a portkey it took several stops to eat, pause and reflect before he finished apparating back to Hogwarts, and Albus was of course waiting for him.

"Well, Severus?" The old wizard asked.

"Potter is capable," he said as he walked into the castle.

"That is all?" Albus asked, following him to his rooms.

"He's cynical about your motives in this, and his survival. He doesn't seem to care about the past, mine included," Severus reported.

"How so Severus?" He asked as he kept pace with him.

Severus paused and looked to the older man. "Potter has, surprising as it may seem survived in an environment that would have challenged other wizards, that you lead him to the prophecy is-" Severus was cut off.

Dumbledore interjected. "Necessary as well you know of the prophecy I would not-"

Severus cut him off. "No. Potter acknowledges his part as a participant." He made to leave the headmaster.

"Do you think Harry will see me, as he did you?" He asked.

Severus shrugged. Potter had implied he would leave his location shortly after he departed. Not in words, but it was clear Potter would likely be finished bottling by now, Severus doubted Potter would have remained.

"Perhaps I will see Harry before events compel…" Severus walked off on the headmaster talking to himself.

-/

Pomona looked up as Severus Snape stepped into her private greenhouse and offices, she had come to a quiet amicable relationship with the man. His assistance with Mr Diggory and his continuing treatment following that night had been very helpful. She had followed his help up by attempting and succeeding in growing a number of more rare potion ingredients that she knew were hard to procure. She was relatively certain Severus did not use them with any of the younger students, but they were accepted nonetheless for those who might show some promise and inspiration.

"Severus, you look well rested, sleeping better?" She asked brightly as she gestured at the kettle.

"A short break," he revealed little, but accepted the worn chair beside her, before removing a piece of parchment from his robes and passed it to her. Some of the ingredients she recognised, they were plants that formed the bases of targeted healing potions. But someone, probably Severus had put a small line next to several of the others. "Are you familiar with these Pomona?"

"These two are quite expensive to buy dried, I know that Severus. Third from the bottom is a controlled substance by the Ministry if it's prepared improperly, but I know where it grows in the forest. The others I've heard of," she fixed the younger man with a look and gestured with her wand to make a pot of tea. "What is this Severus?" She looked at the handwriting, it looked like she'd seen it before. Rubbing the parchment in her somewhat dirty hands she tried to place where it was from. It wasn't really her field, but all plant products, even paper were of some interest to her.

"Potter," he said simply as he accepted a mug of tea.

She looked at him. "Mr Potter? He's certainly improved his herbology if he knows what all of these are," she paused. "and what are they Severus?"

He sighed. "Perhaps a potion to assist myself and Mr Diggory, if he still has some ill affects."

She smiled, that even though Cedric Diggory had completed and departed Hogwarts that Severus would still think of him and consider assisting him. She took piece of parchment and noted down the ingredients. "I'll have Mr Longbottom get on the more unusual plants," she caught his look. "He'll make a great expert one day, quite the most intelligent and naturally gifted student I've had for a while."

Severus raised an eyebrow and sipped his tea, unlike Potter's it was not searingly hot, nor stronger than a dragon's kick.

"Mr Longbottom also will not pry unlike some of my other promising students, especially from Ravenclaw and Slytherin, always looking to get one up."

Severus didn't acknowledge this statement, he was mostly caught in thought, his mind slightly wandering after the length journey to return to Hogwarts from his two days with Potter.

"Knut for your thoughts," Pomona pondered.

Severus shook his head. "It's nothing," he put down the half finished mug of tea. "Thank you for the tea, and for the ingredients."

"I haven't found them yet Severus!" She chastised lightly. "If they'll help you and Mr Diggory then anything is worth it, I will also be interested to see the final product, it's Potter's creation?"

Severus shook his head. "No."

Pomona watched his back as he departed the greenhouse without a further word.

-/

Albus Dumbledore looked around Aydar Lake, he had followed the coordinates that Severus had given him to the letter.

There was nothing left of Harry or even much magical presence save for some murlap growing on the water's edge, and most of that had been harvested by someone already.

Gesturing with his wand he hunted around for evidence of _any_ magic having been performed here.

There was a light indication that some small deflective magic had been cast, but there was no evidence of any wards and no magical structures had been placed in the sand. Magical tents often impacted on sand more so than muggle tents, their relative mass indented more. But here there was nothing. Severus had suggested Harry had a cauldron, but there was nothing indicating a magical fire had been lit.

It was most curious that there was very little magical evidence of Harry having been here, yet, Severus indicated that Harry was a capable wizard, as had Sirius.

Looking around this desolate landscape he wished, somewhat that he could have the luxury of escape, but the greater society was at stake, Voldemort's force required combating. The horcruxes and ultimately the prophecy would need to be dealt with.

_A/N: _

_The meeting between Harry and Severus is another which was in my original Extradition Challenges. But has changed somewhat. In essence it's the same, but it's much more detailed. There's more insight in this version._


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Harry Potter was in 'the capital of the south' in Kyrgyzstan, and he was quite enjoying the heat. Summer was most definitely here, the temperatures were getting high, especially compared to the winters.

Osh had a diverse and spread out wizarding population, and very friendly. He'd had offers from many families who found it surprising to find an English wizard who spoke, albeit not amazingly Russian and Arabic, _and_ was a potion maker. He wasn't great at any of those things, but it seemed to matter not to them. But he had offered, nay, wanted to help; fruit picking, potion ingredient foraging, spell reinforcement, whatever they might need. He'd stayed with half a dozen people in the past few months he'd been here and barely explored the city and its surrounds. But it felt like a safe place to stay for a while before going out and exploring, and everyone had said there was a place for him in winter, which was nice to know and to know he could do things here that weren't on such an industrial scale as the flying carpet manufacturer.

-/

"There's a bar here, if you want something to go with the tea," Harry joked as he embraced Sirius.

Sirius laughed. "I realised I couldn't keep going with that Harry."

Harry nodded as they sat down, he knew something had been up with Sirius, he'd smelt of alcohol more than once when they'd met, but he didn't want to say anything.

"17, Harry," Sirius shook his head, clearly amused. "A few years in Hogwarts and now you're probably the youngest most travelled wizard, from Britain at least, even I didn't go out adventuring that much."

Harry leaned back in his chair an easy smile on his face. "It's a freeing experience, I'd endorse others to do the same a 'Grand Tour', wizards used to do it all of the time I gather," Harry explained thinking of a book he'd read. "Getting away from it all…" he trailed off, he didn't think of Hogwarts or what happened, not so much. He tried not to in any case, the time for ruminating on _Ron_ had passed. His feelings about Ron were in the _past_.

"There's a new Minister for Magic," Sirius broke into the silence that came out of Harry's silent musing "she's promised to look into the death warrant," he let the statement hang for a moment before adding "the current crisis is more important though," Sirius finished. "Voldemort's become more emboldened," he added.

"Who's replaced Fudge?" Harry asked curiously, Severus hadn't told him anything much of wizarding politics and he'd not thought to ask. The death warrant wasn't what was really keeping him travelling, not really.

"Amelia Bones, from what I hear it was a bit of a coup, no one's forced a change of Minister while they're still alive for at least 200 years, Dumbledore thought she'd be better than Fudge," Sirius paused to add a copious amount of sugar to his tea.

"But…?" Harry prompted.

"Well, I heard that Dumbledore had Fudge properly scared," Sirius gave him a look. "And under his thumb."

"A little too scared," Harry mused. "Scared people are prone to doing quite wild things."

Sirius laughed. "He didn't, got paranoid. Bones swept in with over three quarters support, Diggory's now her deputy."

"Good for Amos," Harry praised, hopefully Amos would be able to clear up all those things he lamented back when he helped him escape those few years ago. He smiled at the thought.

Sirius gave him a knowing look but didn't say anything. "So I hear, Bones isn't going to be bossed around by anyone, certainly not Dumbledore. She's reigned in the Order 'can't have a vigilante group running around, we've already got Voldemort's cronies to deal with'."

"Your source must be well placed to hear all of this," Harry commented.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at him. "The Ministry still likes me, outside of the old guard within the Ministry but I know enough about all the other things the Ministry didn't want to touch. Not under Fudge at least. Now hopefully some real change'll start to happen."

"Hopefully, you mean Fudge didn't do much?" Harry asked curiously, the way Sirius talked he was really helping.

Sirius shook his head. "Fudge'd help _enough_, but there were still people who didn't want werewolves getting too in control, ingredients suppliers that were screwing the Ministry for all they were worth, other things the nasty parts of politics."

Harry nodded. "You can have the politics Sirius, I don't care," he sighed. "Not about whoever's in charge or the death warrant, or the contract or whatever," he paused to sip his tea. "I'm enjoying my life, here" he gestured around idly with a hand and smiled. "Now I have to deal with the question I don't want to know, but really do."

Sirius frowned.

"The horcruxes?" Harry said in a solemn tone, knowing that if he actually got a final answer about them then that would mean he'd need to deal with things.

Sirius sighed. "Bones forced Dumbledore to explain everything about those to her, not the prophecy, but she knows one exists, she did a search of the Department of Mysteries of anything concerning Voldemort," Sirius explained.

Harry shrugged, he didn't really care about people knowing the prophecy.

"They're now working together, there's a horcrux in Gringotts, well probably," Sirius continued. "Ministry's using emergency powers to force the goblins to grant access," Sirius paused for quite a long time. "It shouldn't be too long until they're all found," Sirius finished in a quieter voice.

Harry sighed.

Sirius continued to explain. "Dealing with them is another question, they're quite resilient, Dumbledore has a lot of experts trying to understand and destroy them."

"And a Basilisk fang isn't going to do it?" Harry asked, thinking of his conversation with Dumbledore.

Sirius looked puzzled, so Harry explained the exact events of of the Chamber of Secrets. "Feels so long ago," Harry said with a sigh.

"I'll pass it onto to him and maybe the Minister as well, unless you don't want me to…?" Sirius looked pained.

Harry shook his head sighed. "I know it can't be good in Britain, with him running around."

"Better than it might have been, Ministry's got lots of seers that foretold a worse environment, had different actions been taken," Sirius shook his head. "'What might have been and what may still come to pass', _I_ think they just make it up."

"I said the same about prophecy, Dumbledore said that's different," Harry shook his head, musing; "All of this is like religion, picking and choosing which bits you believe absolutely and which bits you can disregard."

Sirius bristled at the comparison. "Wizarding is nothing like religion Harry!"

His reaction surprised Harry, but not hugely. "The response and the stakes are higher I suppose."

Sirius shook his head clearly annoyed.

"Would Hogwarts have taught the distinction?" Harry asked as he poured more tea.

Sirius threw up his hands in exasperation. "Why do you have to ask these questions Harry?"

Harry looked at his godfather surprised. They weren't questions he'd really voiced before. He'd seen plenty of different faiths in the past few years on his own, and hadn't really had anyone to ask. "I'm sorry" he said meekly. "Didn't mean to upset you."

Sirius shook his head. "No, it's just, not questions I'm asked much Harry," he tried to smile.

"Maybe now there's a capable ministry I should run off? Leave wizarding Britain to Voldemort?" Harry asked his godfather, watching the emotions playing over his face. "I didn't create Voldemort, nor the environment he was born into, why should I, barely 17 years old combat a wizard so determined for life he shattered his soul?"

Sirius watched him, chewing his lip as he did.

"I asked Severus that question when he visited to 'assess me'," Harry offered.

"Dumbledore sent Snape?!" Sirius muttered.

"Had a good ole chat," Harry commented. "He couldn't give me a good answer either."

"I…I don't know what to say Harry, I wish you weren't in this position," he paused shaking his. "You could run I suppose," he smiled slightly "You've done well so far…but he knows that he'll one day have to face you, and think of the destruction-"

Harry shook his head cutting off Sirius. "That was Dumbledore's argument, to blame me for the potential damage that Voldemort might cause, searching for me, used that to try and 'persuade me'. That's an argument the Dursleys used to use on me to get me to do work for them, 'if you don't help us, how can we the people who provide everything for you, what might happen?'" Harry sneered. "It was a bad argument to a seven year old, it's an even worse one to a 17 year old."

Sirius looked at him carefully. "I don't know Harry, you've made your way in the world better than I could have. You've changed Harry."

Harry nodded. "More cynical," he paused and looked to his godfather and gave him a serious look "I realised I don't want to be looking over my shoulder, I don't want to be free knowing that Voldemort is doing whatever…_I_ couldn't live with that, but it's my decision," he finished resolutely shaking his head. Then he rose from his chair wondering over to pay and returning.

"Fancy a wander?" Harry asked his godfather.

Sirius had stood, hand in pocket to follow him with money to pay. "You're not going to pop off like last time?"

Harry shook his head. "Way you tell it Dumbledore is too busy," he shrugged. "And I've been here a while, I don't think he would be able to take me away, if he wished to try."

"You've made friends, people who'd protect you?" Sirius asked.

"I've met friendly people, people who've offered me sanctuary," Harry confirmed.

"Can I meet some of them?" Sirius wondered with a hopeful smile.

"Speak any of the local language?" Harry asked as they walked away from the café.

Sirius shook his head and laughed. "No."

"Then it'll be a short and awkward meeting," Harry said with a laugh.

"And you Harry?" Sirius enquired.

Harry shrugged. "Badly."

-/

Remus walked in amongst the students as they filtered out into Hogsmeade, cries of 'watch out for the Sludge' rang out as taunts as he looked around the streets for the very real threat, but one they, all the professors tried to minimise.

'The Sludge', that was what they were being called, after a pro-Voldemort piece appeared in the _Daily Prophet_ calling them a 'Scourge to whip away the chaff from the wheat of wizarding society', someone on the on the wireless commented they were more the _sludge_ than scourge.

Somehow the name stuck within the consciousness of the British wizarding society.

The Sludge had attacked another of the wizarding wireless' relay stations recently, this one on top of the Leaky Cauldron damaging all of its accommodation.

He'd heard on the wireless that the Ministry had offered to assist in the rebuilding, but they had refused in order to remain independent, from Sirius Remus had heard that the Ministry was now trying to get the Cauldron fixed up as it was still a useful location for the comings and goings in and out of Diagon Alley, and while that part hadn't been damaged the attack and damage had shaken everyone.

Remus was thankful that he was relatively protected at Hogwarts from the worst of the Sludge's violence and could protect the children from the same. Let them just be children.

Even that was slowly evaporating, the older sixth and seventh year students were forming up groups for when they returned home, just in case something happened, the more industrious ones were forming groups to protect muggles as well. It was quite 'community minded' of them, even if liberal use of memory modification was needed.

A loud noise startled him out of his musings and he took off running towards it.

Remus let out a breath of relief seeing it was just some coal being delivered.

With the change in government he hoped that things would change quickly, unfortunately sections of the Ministry seemed to be trying to move extra slowly to frustrate the new Ministry, and given Voldemort's actions thus far Amelia Bones couldn't throw out everything and start again, that had been Sirius' suggestion.

Governing wasn't as simple as that.

Most of the students seems to have filtered into shops and there were now a few plain robed Aurors patrolling the streets.

Not the one he'd been hoping for, over the school year thus far he had been getting on familiar terms with one Nymphadora Tonks 'just Tonks' she'd said. Perhaps she'd got her wish to cover more interesting roles given her status as a metamorphmagus. He couldn't even owl her, all her owls had to go through the Ministry, so they'd just taken to meeting in Hogsmeade in between her shifts, but only after they'd seen each other on the weekend to set a time.

Remus smiled and shook his head, he'd join Minerva instead at The Three Broomsticks instead.

"There's more Aurors out, good I suppose," she said by way of greeting as he brought over a gillywater for her along with his own drink. "What the devil is that Remus?"

Remus looked at the tall drink he had opposite her. "Grapefruit juice, with guarana."

She wrinkled her nose. "Why Remus?"

Remus sipped it, wincing slightly. "With the full moon, Severus has indicated that the grapefruit is good for my liver, it stops some of the worst effects of the wolfsbane being picked up, the guarana I gather is a herb like coffee."

Minerva shook her head.

"It helps, I have Madame Rosmerta source the guarana for me, apparently it comes from a muggle source," he said in a faux whisper and chuckled.

Minerva just nodded as she took in the information. "I heard a muggle news organisation almost stumbled upon one of the Sludge's meeting sites, the Ministry's rushed out memory modifications before it was broadcast."

"Sirius tells me they're still working out how to deal with the sympathisers within the Ministry, he's not worried being within the beast," Remus related to her.

"Sirius still meets with Mr Potter doesn't he?" Minerva enquired curiously.

Remus sipped his drink, still wincing at its tartness. "Sirius says Harry contacts him occasionally. Severus met Harry months ago."

Minerva nodded. "Mr Potter and Ms Granger were two of my most promising students Remus, and I've lost them both," she paused. "Both have excelled from what I've been told, Ms Granger even wrote to me," she smiled.

Remus chuckled. Of course she would. "She was a great student too when I taught, both of them, Harry is the only person of his age I've taught who could produce a patronus," Remus pondered in remembrance.

Minerva sighed. "Too many are asking about defensive spells for their families Remus."

"At least they can enjoy themselves here, I mentioned to Severus we should suggest people stay for Christmas," Remus drinking some of his juice.

Minerva made a noise of agreement. "Pomona suggested the same, it won't work, they'll want to go home, the students are more perceptive than we think, they'll want to go and protect their families."

Remus nodded. "Then I'll furnish them with as many defensive spells as I can think of," he finished firmly.

-/

Sirius stood and smiled for the cameras from the _Prophet _while a microphone was set up by the wizarding wireless. After the destruction he had offered a donation to the wireless, without terms attached. There were plenty who donated anonymously, none who would put their name to helping them in such a public way.

One of the people he'd helped had suggested the location; Battersea Power Station. It had been a wreck for several years, and still remained so, the chimneys making for a perfect location for the the wireless' aerial.

It was to be a temporary location for now until things settled.

He wasn't sure what he was going to say. Tell people to stay safe, that the Ministry will respond to all emergencies. That the Sludge, a name that still amused him, would be dealt with.

Constant vigilance, be aware, but not alarmed.

-/

He didn't really have time to be popping off, away from Hogwarts, Albus thought to himself as he planned for his destination.

Even during this Christmas period, there were things unrelated to Hogwarts that he needed to be attending to.

At Hogwarts there were very few students staying over Christmas; barely 20 students within its walls.

Despite the risks from Voldemort and his Death Eaters; the so-called 'Sludge', everyone felt that they would be more safe with their families. Or perhaps they all just wanted to spend time away from the castle this year?

Minerva would watch over the handful of students who remained, a few from all four houses.

It would, she reminded him build bonds between the students. Even years afterwards those who bonded over 'that strange Christmas' remained acquaintances. This wasn't the first time there was a handful of students, but he hoped it would be the last time such a dark cloud hung over their heads.

He had crafted his own portkey to get to his destination; Osh, Kyrgyzstan. It was quite probably the furthest he had travelled from Britain in a very long time.

The young man whom he was going to speak with had not chosen such a powerful, or rather inverse location as he had for their first meeting.

He had done a thorough survey of the area this time, something he had not thought to do when meeting with Harry the last time. He had not considered Harry would utilise the landscape, or local knowledge to such an advantage. Such locations were extremely few in Britain as to practically not exist.

The location which had been passed to him by Sirius bordered a river, and may have some magical connection.

Albus had encountered some fences, though not a firm barrier preventing him from walking through into the property, however he instead walked some ways along the road and entered through a unoccupied piece of land and then backtracked to Harry's location.

Midday in which he'd arrived had begun to slide into afternoon as he approached.

Harry was sat in front of fire pit reading a newspaper, he was wearing a old sheepskin coat, rough boots and appeared to have long hair, longer than any of his peers.

Albus noted there were no wards or protections around the fire, but he did see that Harry had his wand in a pocket of his shirt.

Sitting down opposite Albus took in the newspaper which was completely in Cyrillic.

"A translation spell Harry?" He enquired curiously by way of a greeting.

Harry Potter looked at him cooly over the newspaper. "I could have used something like that a few times," he folded the newspaper over and put it beside him. "I did it the hard way; by learning it, and understanding it."

Albus felt his tone and the words an attack on him, but did not say anything.

"Severus and Sirius indicated you might want a word," Harry pondered as he reached for his wand. Albus tensed as Harry gestured with it behind him; wordlessly summoning something, then a log came flying from a location some ways away. Harry gestured at the fire and the log slowed its velocity and slid gently into the fire.

Albus wanted to comment on Harry's proficient use of magic, and more importantly that he had wished Harry contact him _months_ ago. But did not. "Indeed Harry," he paused. "The search for the horcruxes nears its end. The final has been recommended to be dealt with only when the time is right," he quoted almost verbatim those from the Order and the Ministry assisting in the discovery and destruction of the horcruxes. "I must apologise too Harry."

Harry looked at him surprised. "For what?" he asked cautiously, his hand moving to his wand.

"You were right, the quest for the horcruxes was not something I should have suggested you pursue," he sighed. "I thought that being connected to Voldemort that…" he trailed off and shook his head. "Likewise, the death warrant was foolish to endorse, I required many things of the Minister and at the time-"

"You leveraged a warrant against me to gain power at Hogwarts and with the Minister?" Harry wondered.

Albus nodded, being confronted by Minister Bones and what he had done with (former) Minister Fudge to maintain control had been something of an awakening. Something she suggested he may still pay for following the current crisis. The death warrant had not served anyone well, not him, Fudge, Harry, Mr Weasley, no one really.

"You gained Sirius his freedom, something I'm not sure I could have done for him," Harry mused. "I've enjoyed my time away from Hogwarts, you know I'll never go back don't you?"

Albus nodded, Severus had indicated as much to him.

"So now we come to the end, no escape routes for Voldemort," Harry said and then muttered "And none left for me," he looked at Albus.

Albus nodded. "Decisions will need to be made Harry, plans put in place for the final confrontation-"

Harry interjected. "I have had some thoughts on that. Where this might end," he fixed Albus with a look. "And then that's it Albus, if by some miracle I survive, no one gets a say, in fact no one gets to know. After this I have control, no more of anything following me. A line ruled under this," Harry said with some finality.

Albus listened as Harry outlined his plan, and his demands. It was a short list, but carefully considered and planned out. Harry had obviously already scouted a suitably remote location, simple where no one could easily hide. To ensure everyone would arrive by portkey was something he could engineer, even Voldemort and his supporters. Only he and Harry would know the location. One more secret to hold onto. He had plenty of those he would carry with him to the end.

"You agreed very easily to this, probably not too hard for you to engineer and manipulate people into doing," Harry mused cynically.

Albus couldn't say anything to this challenge.

"You know, I've been around a few places, read up on a few things. Spoken to a lot of witches and wizards who don't have the opportunity to go to places like Hogwarts," Harry began as he kicked the log in the fire. "Society, conflict, you know."

Albus nodded, he was aware of the privileged society British wizarding existed in.

"When Sirius and I last chatted I mentioned religion in regard to wizarding, he got quite upset," Harry mused.

Albus didn't say anything, but did wonder on Harry's current direction of thought.

"Last time I saw Sirius I suggested that wizarding is like religion," Harry explained "all believing a set of rules, that might matter or not," he snorted. "Except magic's real?" He finished in a heavily cynical tone. "If Voldemort's the ultimate criminal for what he did, and what he's done and doing, are you sending me out to fight him," Harry's tone was cold as he paused. "Because your prophecy tells you to?" Harry looked at him trying to read an expression. "Then is that any better than religion that you're so against?" Harry paused and took his newspaper throwing it into the fire and watched the flames lick at it for a few moments. "That's something I would have liked an answer to," he looked at Albus, with a mixture of disappointment and perhaps pity. "I don't know if Hogwarts would have taught the differentiation, or even challenged to think about it," Harry shook his head. "I don't know, and don't know if it would help if the end comes," Harry stood as the flames died away on the newspaper. "Now I don't care. Of all of this, prophecy and all, I want an end to it, I don't want it hanging over mine or anyone's heads. An end, whatever that means."

Harry gestured with his wand in a spiral; thoroughly extinguishing the fire. As he pocketed his wand there was barely any steam rising from it. Then he offered Albus his hand. "I thought about offering to go for a Christmas drink Albus," Harry raised his eyebrows at his former headmaster, then smiled a dangerous smile. "Then I thought maybe I could drop you in a volcano," Harry finished, his hand dropping to his side.

"Greater men have tried Harry," Albus said rising from his chair to stand opposite him.

"I have no doubt. You're a terrible person," Harry exhaled a great sigh. "Maybe you did what you did for what you thought were the right reasons," he shook his head. "I'm not sure I could do those things," then displaying his Quidditch skills Harry grabbed Albus' hand. "Or could I?"

Without realising it Albus was side-along apparated.

-/

He was taller than he remembered.

Ron had been asked to come along with the Order. _He_ was a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

He'd been out with Charlie and with his other brothers, patrolling, protecting the village when he'd not been at school, as part of the Order of the Phoenix. Everyone had to do their part to protect themselves and their neighbours against the Sludge. Everyone had to do their part against Voldemort.

His hair was in a long…thing down his back. It was like Ginny when she'd tried growing her hair out a few years ago, before getting frustrated she couldn't play Quidditch like that and she'd cut it all short in a fit of anger. Mum had needed to help her tidy it up so she didn't look so much like a boy.

Ron slowly approached him, Dumbledore hadn't told them not to. Well, he hadn't told _him_ not to.

He wasn't helping with the preparations, he was just stood up here watching over some cauldrons like Snape. While everyone else was doing work, he was just up here with his back turned.

"Hello Ron, it's been a while, you still believe I put my name in the cup?" Harry Potter turned, but not to face him, to attend to a different cauldron.

Ron clenched his fists hard to stop himself from saying something 'inflammatory'. "You're not helping?" He finally asked after some silence and Harry having turned back to whatever it was he was brewing.

"Albus is organising the troops, preparing the battleground," Harry continued, not looking at him as he spoke.

Ron wanted to walk closer, but the arrangement of the cauldrons and fires, it made him not want to cross the invisible barrier that seemed to be in place.

"What more should I be doing?" Harry asked having stirred one of the potions and moved to another.

"Helping, do you know how many wizards were injured-" Ron began as Harry looked over to meet his gaze. His face was tanned, like Bill's was. He still had those same glasses as he had at Hogwarts, even after all these years.

"I'm going to face Voldemort Ron," Harry looked at him with an expression Ron wasn't sure about. "Alone in battle, do you think me running around helping Dumbledore and his minions will matter, in the end?" He finished in a tired tone.

"But…but…" Ron began, he wasn't sure what he was meant to say, this was Harry, he thought he'd be happy to see him again. "Hermione-"

"Went to Beauxbatons, I know," Harry cut him off in a cool tone.

Ron clenched his fists again.

Harry gave him a pitying look. "Maybe when all of this is over we'll get meal, drink some vodka and reminisce."

Ron began to formulate his response as Harry spoke again.

"Or I'll be dead," Harry said with a dismissive tone that signalled the end of the conversation, so much so Ron felt himself walking away from where Harry was.

He was some distance away before he turned back to look at the figure he'd been speaking to and wondered if he should go back before someone called his name. _He'd_ go and do something useful.

-/

Voldemort looked sickly.

Albus had provided some photos when they'd met here. He still wasn't sure if he'd done the right thing.

Not dropping him in a volcano.

The photos had been taken with some form of long lens and were normal photos, not the half moving wizarding ones. He'd only ever seen Voldemort in nightmares and attached to Quirrell. Also Harry mused when he was young in the Chamber of Secrets.

But he didn't resemble any of those visages. The wizard stood before him was thin, his robes hanging off him like wispy pieces of fabric. He looked sickly thin, with sunken eyes that looked like jelly.

Harry shifted his feet on the sand. He'd chosen the Aral Sea, or its shores, because he'd needed a location remote, not in Europe mostly to remain consistent with the warrant, and isolated enough so that no one could rush in and interfere.

"Here we are," Harry gestured around, looking around at Voldemort's Death Eaters. There was enough of a breeze that made their loose cloaks flap around in a somewhat silly manner.

"Lured here, Harry Potter?" Voldemort wondered, his wand outstretched at him.

Harry looked surprised, mostly because he didn't know that was part of the story. "Kill me now, and you can go off and conquer, with no concerns of me or the prophecy," he offered.

"Perhaps," Voldemort mused. "You have been proficient with my horcruxes, I will make new ones, better ones."

"So do you kill me here before your brethren?" Harry threw his arms wide, "Or do we battle?"

"I would not kill, even you Harry Potter, like some muggle food animal," Voldemort said in oddly calm tone, gesturing to his Death Eaters to back away. "We fight," he changed his stance. "As wizards."

"So be it," Harry said with a sigh, drawing his wand and shifting his weight around on his feet; digging into the sand. He knew what was to come would not be easy, nor free from pain.

-/

Severus hissed as he looked through the omnioculars as Potter gestured about. "What is he doing?"

"Baiting him, giving time for Nagini to be killed, we want him off balance during the fight," Black muttered beside him.

"Yes, you can begin now, the battle will soon commence," Albus was saying into a mirror beside them.

All three were lying in a small bunker a quarter of a mile from where Harry and Voldemort were, hidden physically and magically from any prying eyes.

"He has an odd fighting stance," Albus commented disconnectedly.

Severus agreed as he watched through the omnioculars.

"I just wish we weren't so removed from all of this," Black lamented.

"It was what was agreed," Albus said solemnly.

Hit wizards and those expert at long distance spells would disable or eliminate those Death Eaters present, the Ministry would supposedly deal with those in Britain, if they succeeded here.

"It's starting," Black whispered in a longing tone that suggested he wished to be out there with Potter. Perhaps they all wanted to be, to help.

Arcs of spell fire and energy were warping and fizzing out between Harry and Voldemort, it was pure magic in its rawest forms. There weren't any recognisable spells as the two wands and the magic wrought by the two casters met forming a ball of energy encompassing the pair of them.

Severus could feel the sandy ground that they were lying on shifting and rumbling beneath them.

There was a tug like they were being drawn forward and then he had to put the omnioculars down, he didn't need them; there was a slowly building ball of white hot light and then…and then everything flashed hot and burning, what followed was an intense burning on his arm as the Dark Mark heated white hot, feeling as though it burned down to his bone.

-/

He must have blacked out, because Poppy was rubbing a salve into his arm, he grabbed at it. "I can do that thank you Poppy."

"Of course Severus," she said quickly. "I have others to attend to." .

Only as he rubbed it into his arm did he realise someone must have evacuated him from the bunker they three of them had been in. Albus and Black were not nearby.

-/

There was nothing that remained, of either wizard.

Just a space of blackened bowl of glass in the shoreline, where the sand seemed to have been heated up and melted into glass.

No one had seen what had happened.

Voldemort was gone, as it seemed was Harry Potter.

No one spoke of what had happened. Some were crying, others shouting epithets of anger at those Death Eaters who remained; most had been dealt with, but a few remained bound and prevented from escaping.

Only he, Albus and Black had been close enough to even witness, everyone else was further back.

"That's it," Black said looking around.

"That's it," Severus agreed, looking down.

"No one knows where we are, part of the deal," Black said, he'd been crying.

"He could be alive," Severus tried, he didn't know why he was trying to comfort Black of all people.

"Maybe. He wanted it this way, to disappear. Did what the prophecy needed, didn't run away and leave us with the mess," Black shook his head and walked off in the direction of the portkey point.

Severus looked around and back down to the glass, the only indication a fight had occurred here and followed Black. "Probably more than we deserved."

-/

A/N:

_One more chapter to go. There's still some characters to have their moments in the story._

_I wanted to address, at least a little bit the theological questions that probably arose during Harry's sojourn through the Middle East, but it's only now that he's been through a lot and matured a bit that he can actually wonder about it. And that he can't have got to where he is now both physically and philosophically without thinking about these things._

_Writing Harry vs Voldemort scenes I find a little bit tedious, there's only so many ways to write Harry and Voldemort flinging spells at one another. Writing it from Severus' POV means at least I can show the major parts without lots of wand waving and gesturing. _

_Thanks for reading._


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Hermione Granger consulted the map again. Only three people had known the location of this battle. Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort and Harry Potter.

In all the media done following the battle he never mentioned where it had occurred.

_"Now onto the battle itself, the Ministry granted you and your 'Order of the Phoenix' leave to organise this setting with Harry Potter,_" _the interviewer began as an introduction._

_"Indeed, to better serve the security of the Ministry, secrecy was utmost with a deconstruction and separation of power and control from the Ministry saved us several times," Albus explained, using the terms that had been used by many Ministry departments to describe the Order of the Phoenix and other groups' activities. _

_"I understand the location was selected to keep curious witches and wizards away from the battle."_

_Albus laughed. "You may think that, I couldn't possibly comment."_

_"But you are here to comment and answer on the war Headmaster," the interviewer pressed._

_"Am I?" Albus asked curiously, taking a moment to sip the provided water._

_"Our listeners and most of wizarding Britain are aware of the role prophecy played in Voldemort's ultimate demise, Harry Potter's part in this has not been divulged. Commentators have suggested the endorsement of the death warrant on him suggests he played a crucial role in the prophecy, while some others have suggested you were indicated in the prophecy."_

_"That is some speculation," Albus offered. Minister Bones had said that her government would not make lying to its people habitual, and that if he was asked a direct question, he too should endeavour to speak the truth. Or a version of the acceptable truth._

_"Was Harry Potter engaged in the prophecy Supreme Mugwump Dumbledore?" The interviewer asked in an exasperated tone._

_"I can't comment on prophecies, the history programming the wireless broadcasts made that very clear, and I must praise, quite an aural journey," Albus boldly proclaimed._

_The interviewer seemed to paused for thought for a moment, Albus took the moment to sip his water again._

_"Was Harry Potter present at the battle?"_

_Albus mused and wondered for a few moments. Simple questions did not allow for complex answers. "Yes, he was."_

_"Did your Order of the Phoenix or other Ministry forces assist in the battle?"_

_"We were assisted to subdue Voldemort's followers-"_

_"His 'Death Eaters'?" The interviewer interjected._

_"Yes," Albus answered._

_"But the battle itself was between Harry Potter and Voldemort."_

_"Was that a question?" Albus asked after an inappropriate amount of silence._

_"Yes," the interviewer said in a terse tone._

_"I cannot say for certain," Albus answered carefully._

_"Did he survive?" The interviewer asked._

_"Voldemort?" Albus asked. "No, the experts your organisation have interviewed have said as much from the investigation-" he was cut off._

_"No, Harry Potter, some call him a coward of the tournament" the interviewer baited. "Leaving a contract he was entered into. That the death warrant should have remained active."_

_"I withdrew my endorsement, as did all parties, that was a different government's actions," Albus answered and met the interview's gaze and shook his head ever so slightly, suggesting to them he was not going to answer the status of Harry Potter._

_The interviewer seemed to consult their notes without acknowledging him. "And finally, what is your opinion on the Ministry's reforms that are currently being developed?"_

_"You'll have to be more specific, Minister Bones is pushing through some of the largest reforms this century, most I agree with, but…" _

She didn't even find out the battle had happened until a couple of months following.

The Ministry had slapped a huge Z Notice over all of the events, all the Death Eaters and everyone involved had been locked up in the Ministry's new secret storage facility, which even now she barely knew about. The British Ministry had had a huge purge of influential people who had been siphoning Ministry funds, equipment and speciality items away.

Fred and George hadn't gone along with the Order of the Phoenix in solidarity with Harry and herself. It being organised by Dumbledore, they said there were 'too many question marks about what he's up to, we gave them some things we've been working on though'. Some most excellent inventions far beyond their simple joke shop aspirations. The twins were innovators, much more so than anyone else she'd met or read about.

She had spoken to some of her classmates who'd encouraged her to get the twins to come over to Europe 'for more broad-minded discussions'.

The twins had also helped her with something. Ron hadn't spoken to her much, and since the battle he didn't even return her letters. He was pursuing a career with the Ministry. Supremely pleasing their mum so said Fred and George. But they had acquired the sand left on his boots and clothes, he'd not worn or washed either since that battle.

They hadn't asked why she wanted it, but she knew they would have guessed.

It was difficult to find this location, even with the sand, it didn't have much magical association, in fact very little association.

But there was the smallest hint, enough to tease out a general location.

Then with a series of specialist maps and even more specialised potions to be applied she could begin to narrow down the location.

She cursed, looking at the map again that everyone had come by portkey, and the portkey points were located some distance away, better insulating the location from prying investigators.

She'd been to see Sirius, he had told her what she already knew; that Dumbledore was the only one who knew the location, everyone had arrived by portkey.

Even Voldemort and his Death Eaters had done so, _how_ the Order had managed that she was very curious to find out.

It could have been something simple as a lie, spread about this location being lethal to apparition. There were more locations like that than people thought around Europe.

Drawing a small dome over the map to block out the wind with her wand she pocketed the wand and extracted a small eye dropper bottle, dropping a few drops onto the map. She felt it moisten beneath her fingers and hoped it wouldn't rip as she turned 360 degrees and watched as a line slowly formed on the map and she took off at a quick pace as the line glowed.

The map was almost falling apart as she reached the location. Casting a preservation charm over it she slipped it into a protective bag, and then pushed it into a larger bag she had slung over her back.

There was very little here, but as she cast about with her wand the spells revealed something just below the surface.

Enough that the water, sand and wind had covered it up.

The site of the final battle between Harry Potter and Tom Marvolo Riddle – Lord Voldemort.

There wasn't much; a blackened bowl of glass, there wasn't even that much magical residue, but it was definitely _magical _the result of a high-powered battle between two matched wizards. This sort of magical energy transfer was rarely heard about. Few people saw the aftermath and even fewer ever witnessed a battle.

She could feel tears coming down her face.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting to find.

Harry Potter hadn't been heard of for two years, two years since the battle.

The last time she'd heard his voice was more than three years ago, and she'd not seen him since…well since Hogwarts.

Now, this was the final point where he'd been seen.

Fred and George said Ron had spoken with Harry right before the battle, supposedly Harry had made a 'stupid joke about dying'.

Sirius said that he wasn't going to look for Harry. "He's his own man, if he wants to…" he'd trailed off before looking to her and smiling saying "I don't need a firm answer."

But _she_ wanted an answer.

But it looked like here wasn't going to answer her questions.

Laying her wand on her palm she cast a point me spell for a magical settlement.

-/

Hermione took a sip of the vodka. She'd found a small tavern that had some indications that magic was holding it up. But there were muggles within the establishment as well as some witches and wizards. She'd used her quite bad Russian to order a meal. The first shot of vodka had come with the meal she discovered.

Then at some point, someone sat down opposite her with his own bottle of vodka, the bottle was a different design to the one the barman had used to pour her third shot.

Looking up from the bottle she saw he was wearing a rough old sheepskin coat. His face was tanned and his hair seemed to have been pulled backwards, she could just about see roughly plaited hair hanging down from his head in the dirty mirrors behind the bar.

"The barkeep has a floo out the back, got word to me, said a woman was casting around the Aral Sea site. 'Head kicker boots, determined air, pissed off'," he quoted, he had an odd accent.

Hermione looked down at her boots. They were dragon-hide boots, part of her new job she needed hard wearing protective footwear. They looked close enough to leather with a few charms that muggle authorities wouldn't notice. "Harry Potter."

"Rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated," he laughed. "Enjoyably so."

Hermione stumbled off her chair and around to him wrapping him in a hug. "You've gotten different, more filled out."

Harry laughed. "Such an eloquent observation Hermione, drunken so, we should drink, this stuff's much less bad."

-/

She woke up with a dry mouth and muttered "Much less bad my arse," sitting up she groaned at the headache that swooshed in like a broom and closed her eyes as she waited for the planet to stop moving quite so fast. As the world swam back into reality she looked around. She was lying on a bed in a large round tent. There was a small pot belly stove in the middle and what looked like a carpet off to one side. Tilting her head she was sure that it was a flying carpet, it had the piping and edging that indicated it wasn't just a standard carpet.

Pushing the blankets and animal skins off she grunted as she pulled herself out of the bed, trying to ignore the thumping pain in her head and moved towards the the only gap in the tent's walls which seemed to suggest a door.

Outside it was bright with sunshine although with a cold breeze, there was a single man tending a cauldron over a fire. From here she could see the long plaited ponytail that was against the coat he was wearing. It looked like he'd never cut his hair since leaving Hogwarts.

"You're awake," he said far too brightly for how she was feeling. "Probably a bit of a headache given the amount of vodka we drank," he said as he turned around reaching into his coat pocket and offering her a phial.

"And a dreadful meal," she accepted the phial. "What is it?" She asked looking at the phial and holding it up to the sun.

"Something to make you feel better, a bit of a combination of something like a Pepperup, bit of willow tree bark, a touch of dittany and a few other things to help," Harry explained as he turned back to the fire. "I've got some porridge on, that'll fill and warm us up, nice and wholesome."

Hermione took the stopper off the phial sipping just a few drops of the potion, rolling it around on her tongue and breathing out through her nose for a few moments, then she swallowed the remained of the phial.

"You think I'd poison you Hermione?" Harry asked as she handed him the phial back.

"Just a precaution, part of what I'll be doing, intelligence gathering and investigation for Magical Intelligence Europe."

Harry nodded. "You said something like that last night, that you're a intelligence officer, like…" he said something in Russian before correcting himself. "A government officer."

He summoned two bowls from his tent, wordlessly and emptied the small cauldron of its contents into the two bowls.

Handing one to her she noticed they were both old dented and chipped enamel bowls, like Harry had bought them from a second hand camping supplies shop and just continued to use them despite how many dents they'd accumulated. She sat down letting the bowl warm her legs as Harry passed her a spoon.

"Careful it's hot," he warned.

-/

"Will you return to Britain or Europe?" she asked as she was half way through the bowl of chunky porridge. There was several fruits in it along with nuts. It was indeed quite 'wholesome'.

Harry shrugged. "Why bother? Aren't I still the man who abandoned a contract? Supposedly I died out at the Aral Sea."

"No one even knows that for certain," Hermione commented. "Dumbledore's the only one who knows, so I'm told."

Harry smiled. "Part of the deal, he agreed. We went out for a drink after."

Hermione stared at him eyes wide. "You went out drinking with Dumbledore?"

Harry shrugged. "He's a bastard and a terrible person," he shrugged again. "Can't change the past," he paused and gave her a wild look. "Thought about dropping him in a volcano, I'm not sure he believed me."

Hermione couldn't quite contain her surprise so covered it with information. "They nullified the warrant, that's not outstanding any more."

"Minister Bones, I heard," Harry mused as he spooned some of the porridge into his mouth, as he swallowed he leaned back looking up at the sky smiling.

"My dad's got right into business with witches and wizards, offering personalised medical practice to them, Hedwig sees more flight time than I ever needed her for at Beauxbatons," Hermione explained brightly, shifting topics.

Harry looked back down from the sky, smiling wistfully. "That's good, I'm not sure I really need an owl any more, anyone who might want me knows where to find me."

Hermione opened her mouth, but closed it as Harry began to speak again.

"You know, she'd have bonded to you and your family, probably'll remember me, but…" he trailed off and smiled at her inclining his head.

"I wasn't trying to say anything like…" Hermione trailed off.

Harry shook his head and laughed. "Just wanted to clear the air. The postcard I sent you was the most post I've sent in years. Sirius gave me a phone number of one of his friends, a person with lycanthropy, I spoke to her, she passed on a message if need be."

Hermione nodded. "I wondered why dad didn't end up being your go between, still shows the usefulness of telephones."

"Is your dad getting wizards into that as well?" Harry asked curiously.

Hermione shook her head. "He's still trying to work out how to do x-rays without any technology _and_ without giving himself and anyone else radiation poising," she shook her head. "Some he's got to the surgery or to a doctor friend, but it's difficult."

"I hope it pays well?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. "Extremely, all tax free, so dad says."

"And your mum?" Harry asked.

"Thinks it's all strange and a bit of a folly, but enjoys getting out into the countryside, seeing things with him. The Diggorys have helped immensely. Mum and Dad said having 'normal' adult friends who happen to be wizards instead of the Weasleys who wanted to poke and prod them," Hermione paused as she finished the last bits of porridge in the bowl. "It makes a difference, having friends who're properly friends not just…whatever Ron was, I mean he was a friend but then at the Tournament."

"In the past Hermione," Harry said as he took her bowl and cast a quick cleaning charm, summoning some water from nearby bucket wordlessly.

"It's impressive the casualness you do all this magic Harry, with very little formal training," Hermione commented.

Harry beamed at her and gestured back to his ger, "I've got books, there's one or two in English, I picked up a good dozen pre-Tsar books a year or so ago, badly water damaged and with some sort of charm preventing muggles from identifying them."

"But you picked it up by doing things, and meeting people, I remember that from last night Harry. It's a very traditional way of learning things," Hermione praised. "Better than reciting _Hogwarts: A History_," she commented with a laugh.

"Surely Beauxbatons: A History?" Harry teased.

"Fleur told me a lot about it, and the other students," she paused. "I did read a bit, but…it felt like so much more of an education at Beauxbatons. There wasn't that antagonism between the houses at Hogwarts, just everyone keen to learn as much as they could from everyone."

Harry nodded. "It's good to know, maybe I should've absconded to Europe…" he paused. "Forgot I went where I did because I needed to escape the warrant and extradition, have Amos to thank for that," he smiled.

"I'll tell him I saw you when I next catch up with Cedric," she caught an inclined eyebrow from Harry. "We're just good friends Harry, not even Fred and George have suggested anything," she scrunched her nose up. "Cedric's just as much a friend as you are."

"'Bonded over the trauma at Hogwarts'," Harry seemed to quote.

"I said that last night didn't I?" Hermione groaned.

"We were laughing at the 'Hogwarts adventures', wonder if it was just Ron that thought it was like that?" Harry sighed. "I haven't really thought about him, thought I put it all behind me. Before the battle saw him, brought back what he said around the Tournament. Was determined to put it in the past. Told him we'd get a drink, if I didn't die," Harry explained in short fits.

"And now?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "I have my life."

Hermione sat, in silence for a while. "Do you think you'd like to see some people? People who want to see you?"

Harry looked at her curiously. "Who? Not Ron."

Hermione shook her head. "Fred and George, Cedric and Fleur and her husband, since you saved his life, I think he'll want to see you again."

Harry frowned. "Who?"

"Have you saved the lives of that many people Harry?" Hermione teased. "Bill Weasley."

Harry looked shocked. "I want to thank him, he shifted my journey, I'd been in Egypt and its surrounds for a while, I was heading for the Red Sea and got waylaid, decided to head north instead."

"So…?" Hermione asked curiously.

Harry shrugged. "If you, and they'd like, though I think I'd like my status as being alive left a mystery," Harry looked to her. "I never wanted fame Hermione, I don't really need the money sitting in the vault, hardly even used the cash Sirius gave me, I don't want or need a big house or whatever it is I'm meant to be living or doing."

Hermione nodded. "Of course Harry, I completely understand, how will we organise this? I presume you don't want an owl visiting you."

Harry shrugged and held out his hand. "Some people do send owls, people who know me."

"Are we going somewhere?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "If you don't mind?"

Hermione shook her head. "I assume you apparated me here?"

Harry nodded as they disapparated.

-/

Hermione stumbled slightly, mostly because she wasn't expecting the ease with which Harry apparated, he didn't even seem to think about it, she was somewhat sure that they'd not travelled a huge distance. The air smelt different, the sun was in a slightly different position.

"We're within Russia, near Lake Baikal," Harry explained, there was some hesitation in his language.

"I've heard of it, it's noted by some wizarding scholars for water that's useful, the minerals in the water and the lake's age make it more conducive to potion making, along with some enchanting."

"It's why I first came here," Harry said as he gestured along a road. "There's not a lot of a wizarding community here in the town, but there's a small general store, and a floo connection. You can pass a message through, I'll get it within a week or so, I'll call your dad, not reversing the charges don't worry," Harry said with a laugh. "Any time will be fine for me by the way."

Hermione nodded as she looked around taking in everything about the location she was in; intelligence gathering.

The shop Harry indicated was what looked like a nondescript building, nothing very notable at all, but the way Harry walked in was very casual.

Following Harry in she took in the shelves; a mixture of muggle packaged foods and what she presumed was wizarding foods or potion ingredients. Cyrillic was not something she had begun to study at all.

"Irina?" Harry called as he went up to the counter, then as a woman came out of the back started speaking in Russian, or at least what Hermione assumed was Russian, she only knew simple phrases and even then it was on the cusp of her understanding. Not the fluid way Harry was speaking.

"I can speak English Harry, as well you know," the woman, Hermione guessed she was in her late 30s, perhaps early 40s chastised in a heavy accent as she met her gaze.

The woman explained that she had a floo, for which she passed Hermione a card with its address in Russian, Arabic and English, also a telephone number and fax number. "Used to have a telex as well, still got owls," she continued to explain that she could take a verbal message, Hermione could pass a letter through the floo or could call or fax a message.

It was all such an odd mixing of technologies.

Hermione thanked the woman and made to leave for the door.

"Harry," the woman called and passed Harry a couple of pieces of paper. "Want it cleared soon."

Harry nodded and walked out the door with her.

"What was that?" Hermione asked as Harry stuffed the pieces of paper into a pocket.

"Dittany, Murlap, Gillyweed and several other magical ingredients, they were cultivated pre-Soviet times, then…history and now they grow wild around, sometimes too much," Harry shrugged. "I clear it, make some potions if they're wizards, show them basics to control it better, take the rest."

Hermione looked at him shocked. "Don't they…don't they know what it is?"

Harry shook his head. "Knowledge gets lost Hermione, they know what they need to know. Communism didn't help everyone."

Hermione nodded. "No," she said in a short tone.

"Do you want to go to the lake, it's a bit chilly to swim, but we can drink if you'd like?" Harry asked brightly.

—/ — \\\—

"Ooof," Cedric said as he was wrapped in a hug by the younger man.

"Long time Cedric, long time," said Harry Potter, a man most people assumed dead. A wizard who'd defeated Voldemort and someone whom he'd helped out of a contract let him go out of a hug and smiled at him.

"Yeah, long time Harry, and good, to see you again," Cedric said putting down the backpack he had in his hands. Hermione had provided him and he assumed the others with coordinates, nothing more than that.

He'd become somewhat used to apparating using them, or rather using maps to plot coordinates. After Hogwarts he'd considered what to do about work. Working in the Ministry didn't appeal, he just couldn't see himself being a Ministry official. He still had the occasional effect from the curses in the graveyard, he managed their effects, the potions and more importantly the ingredients and instructions he'd been provided helped deal with them when they came. He'd ended up travelling around snow mountains around the world; snow boarding. He knew it wasn't what his dad thought he should be doing. But he couldn't play Quidditch professionally, not after what Voldemort and his Death Eaters had done, he'd not played a proper game since before the Tournament. Just some friendly stuff with Hermione, the twins and some other friends from Hogwarts and around elsewhere.

Instead he'd ended up travelling and seeing wizarding buildings in snowy and similar environments, then moving into actually building and designing them.

Working with his hands and wand, it gave him control, stability. And it meant he had to learn a whole new set of skills, including apparating to exacting coordinates.

Even so, he'd deliberately offset the coordinates a little bit, but it seemed Harry or Hermione had already done so, he'd needed to walk at least a few kilometres to Harry's camp.

And it was very much a camp, a mid-sized round tent, some fire pits with cauldrons and what appeared to be a whole lamb slowly rotating over coals.

The man who was tending the fires had plaited hair hanging down his back, some traditional looking boots and…a casual stance. Cedric could tell from looking at some people…and himself that some people had a tight, ready to react stance in themselves. Tightly bound like a bowstring, jump at a sudden sound.

Since Hogwarts he'd been trying to loosen and leave that part of himself behind. The dangers he faced in that graveyard and the spells cast against him, he tried to put in the past, even if sometimes they refused to stay there.

Upon walking up to the man, said man turned, launching a hug around him.

It was surprising, the bulk and strength of the man, the teen he remembered had been smaller than him, and scared, so very scared and desperate.

The man who'd just greeted him was still shorter than him, but weathered and relaxed.

"It has been Harry, a while," Cedric laughed.

"Drink?" Harry asked gesturing towards his tent. "Got some water almost boiling, bit early for booze."

Cedric laughed. "Tea is fine."

Cedric followed Harry into the round tent.

Looking around it was surprisingly homey within. The wizarding tents Cedric found himself staying in were less so, although there was always the attempt, even with the one he'd brought with him, which he'd bought at a highly discounted rate was still…less than homey. He never wanted something overly comfortable, the motivation he found was to construct something good for his clients, not to be relaxing in his own domicile.

"You're a bit early, thought Hermione and the twins weren't coming till later in the afternoon," Harry commented as he spooned tea leaves into a teapot.

"Hermione said you said you didn't mind, I had the time to arrive early," Cedric explained looking around.

"You faced Voldemort in the graveyard," Harry said without much preamble. "I faced him attached to Quirrell, then as a horcrux manifested in front of me, and then," Harry shrugged as though he wasn't listing off facing one of the most dangerous wizards ever confronted by modern wizards. "Hermione tracked down the battle site, makes three people alive who know where it happened," Harry looked at him. "Severus I hope passed on a potion that might help."

Cedric nodded vigourously. "Yes, it did, how…" he trailed off as Harry shook his head.

"A situation I found myself in Cedric," Harry looked to him. "Honestly Cedric, I'm both glad you helped me escape and I wish I had been there in the graveyard, so you didn't need to be."

"As a punching bag for Voldemort? Harry you were willing to give your life to fight him," Cedric said crossing the short distance between them pulling him into a one-armed hug. "You shouldn't think you needed to give more."

Harry shrugged patting Cedric on the back back. "I just want to say again thank you, really, if you hadn't been a friend, then," he looked around and then gestured down and around. "All of this, wouldn't have happened."

Cedric nodded, taking a seat on a cushion where Harry gestured. "It changed me, I won't deny Harry, being in the tournament, seeing," he paused. "Seeing Voldemort, Viktor dying, being tortured, changed me," he sighed, as he accepted a mug of tea from Harry, breathing in the tea's steam. "It changed the paths I thought I was going to follow. Dad thought I was going to become a Quidditch player, or work in the Ministry."

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise as he sat opposite. "And neither of those appealed?"

Cedric shook his head. "Something about the Cruciatus, something that Voldemort and his followers did, and the Ministry after how they treated you, the Z Notice they slapped on the Tournament, not acknowledging anything from it," he shook his head. "I didn't want anything to do with that."

"So what are you up to then? Not sitting in an estate philosophising somewhere," Harry asked gesturing his own chest and arms. "Bulked up, doing something physical."

Cedric laughed and started to explain what he'd been doing.

-/

Later while Cedric was setting up his tent he'd thoughtfully brought along, a couple arrived.

"Harry Potter, my saviour," greeted a red headed man who drew him in a hug.

"Greetings Harry," said a woman beside him.

"Fleur, I would greet you in French, but my language skills extend to three languages, mastering a fourth-" He commented with a smile.

Fleur cut him off laughing drawing him into an embrace. "It is a long time since the Tournament, I think you had the right idea, leaving, in hindsight it was an endeavour not best embarked upon in that climate."

"None of us knew that Voldemort was lurking there," Cedric said as he walked over and looked to Harry. "Water Harry?"

"In my ger, there's some big containers, or there's a river that way, about 40 clicks," Harry gestured towards the west.

Cedric thought for a moment and nodded returning to his tent, coming out a second later with a water bag and going over to where Harry indicated.

"I wish I'd said more, given you more Harry, I saw a lot of healers, they all told me, if you hadn't been there, I would have died, if I'd tried to apparate again, then death was likely, you literally saved my life," Bill explained.

Harry smiled. "I wanted to thank _you_, if you or who you'd been working for hadn't shifted my path, I wouldn't be here."

"Are you happy Harry, this life of a wanderer?" Fleur asked curiously.

Harry nodded smiling broadly. "Yes, I am. I'm not sure I could ever return to whatever life I had, it wasn't much."

-/

The twins had brought some brooms with them, encouraged all of them, Hermione included into a game.

Kicking off from the ground, feeling the air rushing over his head, making his hair flap around, the freedom beneath his legs, it was a glorious feeling. Something he'd not felt for some time, not properly, not amongst old friends.

But then, as Fred and George tried to organise a game they seemed to change their mind and instead began to bait Hermione, Bill and Fleur into racing them around a circuit they devised with floating smoke barriers and everything.

They were after all in the middle of nowhere, no one could see them, this seemed to titillate the twins.

Harry found himself drifting over to where Cedric was on his broom, just balanced casually.

"Not interested in going for a race?" Cedric asked him.

Harry indicated no. "Been a while since I've really ridden a broom, apparating gave me so much freedom."

"How'd cope with the splinching question?" Cedric asked looking to him.

"Don't do it?" Harry offered humorously.

Cedric laughed. "I keep a phial of emergency potion, just in case."

"That's how I saved Bill's life, so he says," Harry commented as he twisted the broom with his thighs; rotating it gently. "Come on," he reached out with a hand to Cedric. "We can't watch them have all the fun."

Cedric laughed and took his hand and pulled himself forward, the broom catching up with his motion. "Us guys who've faced Voldemort can't hang by the side lines, moping?"

Harry laughed as they both directed their brooms towards the course the twins were putting the final touches on. "Right! We can still have some fun Cedric, us survivors."

-/

_A/N: _

_And that's the end. Harry's alive and safe, there's a group of friends around him. Everyone else thinks he's dead. _

_Harry never did get around to having a meal and a drink with Ron. They wouldn't have much to say to one another. _

_I gave Cedric an odd, interesting job because going into the Ministry just seems like a very boring way for him to go. And is a sort of parallel to Harry's nomadic life. Everyone who faced Voldemort ends up a bit messed up._

_Thanks for reading._


End file.
